Hanging by a String
by gumtuu
Summary: part 5 of 5. Claire and Trevor ponder what they must give up for love as Trevor's freedom hangs in the balance.
1. string pg 01

**HANGING BY A STRING**  
A story about the tv show, Cupid  
Part Five of Five  
by Steve 0yervidez  
gumtuu@hotmail.com  
  


A happy cheer went up from the crowd of people clustered near the bar as Trevor finally stepped in through the front door and into Taggerty's again, after what had felt like far too long an absence. He paused at the doorstep, looking around the large, nearly empty room. Unoccupied tables stretched across the floor. The high ceiling was just as he remembered it. Exhaling contently, Trevor was glad to be there. Champ was waiting by the bar with the others, clapping just as loudly, laughing to himself as he watched Trevor. It was mid-afternoon as Trevor hobbled over to the crowd, still using a small metal cane for the next few days to partially support himself. Everyone at the bar was all smiles as they surrounded Trevor closing around when he joined them. Talking happily, they were obviously pleased to see him on his feet again. Trevor warmly accepted the barrage of hugs, kisses, and slaps on the back. But he could feel the caution in their hands when they touched him, worried they might agrivate one of his still healing injuries. Trevor could see the worry hidden in their eyes too, and he wondered. Did they even see him as a god anymore? Had they ever?  
It had been three weeks since he had been released from the hospital, and the doctors had told him to take it easy for awhile. It had taken more than awhile. Slowly he was returning to all of his old activities, but he had been reluctant to do much of anything lately, considering all that had happened. Not all the damage from his experience was physical, after all. The scars from where Faith had shot him would still become sore sometimes, especially when he preferred not to be reminded of the incident. Still, he was on his feet again, and he hadn't seen the inside of Taggerty's in almost a month. He could tell everyone had missed him there, and that they were all glad to have him back. Champ walked over to Trevor with a big smile on his face.  
"Glad to see you back in here, Trevor." Champ's eyes flashed brightly as he looked around. "So. Did you miss this place?"  
"Yeah." Trevor grinned as he looked around with fondness. "Yeah, I think I did. I never would have imagined that I would ever miss anything down here, but... I did." A sadness passed momentarily through him, knowing he was talking about more than the bar.   
Everyone gathered closely around, and Trevor looked gratefully across the crowd surrounding him. Behind them, Taggerty's was for the most part empty. Bright sunlight was casting soft, ambient light in through the front windows. It was mid-afternoon, not the busiest part of the day. Most of the people around him were bar employees, doing the prep work for the bar's nightly rush. But there were a few regular customers there as well to welcome him back, and they all seemed happy to see him.   
Trevor hadn't planned on really doing much work today, mainly just wanting to check in. He gazed past everyone standing near him, scanning across the empty tables behind, searching hopefully across the bar. But she wasn't there. He didn't see her. His expression fell a little, disappointed. Until... he finally did notice her, alone at a table by the front windows, a discreet distance from everyone else.  
Claire looked quickly away when she realized Trevor had seen her. She went back to the newspaper in her hands, but somehow Trevor could tell she was only pretending to read, bathed in the indirect light from the windows.  
Trevor looked at her for several moments, growing a little sad. He wanted so much to go over to her, wanted so much to talk to her. But he was still surrounded by the crowd of his friends and well wishers at the bar, all who were eagerly bombarding him with comments and questions. Trevor smiled, trying to share in their enthusiasm as he looked reluctantly away from Claire and answered them.  
"Hey. Hospitals are no place for the god of love to end up," Trevor answered. "Believe me. Catheters and bed pans don't make for the most romantic milieu. Not many beads for the taking under circumstances like that. Still, there were a few upsides. Mechanically adjustable beds do have their advantages when used properly..."  
One of the waitresses smiled at him. "I'll bet the nurses were all over you, Trevor."  
"Yeah. Not to brag about myself, but I could brag about myself that my catheter took three times as long to put in, if you get my meaning..."  
Champ winced. "Trevor, that's more than we really needed to know. On _so_ many levels..."  
Trevor smiled, everyone still talking happily around him. He nodded at them absently, but he wasn't really listening. There was only one person in that room that held his thoughts. He looked back over to Claire's table. The newspaper she had been reading was abandoned on top of it, her chair empty.  
Hurriedly, Trevor swept his gaze around the room, searching for her. He finally spotted Claire facing away from him, leaving through the front door as it shut behind her with the ring of a bell.  
Instantly, Trevor began pushing his way through the crowd to follow her, moving a little gingerly from his sore ankle. It was still healing slowly after his fall down the stairs after Faith had shot him. Rushing towards the front door, Trevor followed after her, chasing Claire as best as he could.  
  
Outside the bar, Claire paused, coming to a stop as she closed her eyes. She took a deep breath to calm herself in the cool air, her mind racing with images of Trevor, surrounded by his friends in the bar... and her not being a part of any of it. But she knew... that was the way it had to be. Without turning, she resolved herself and started walking away, purposefully not looking back.  
A voice suddenly called out behind her in the bright, crisp autumn air as she walked away.  
"Claire! Claire, wait! We really need to talk about this!"  
Claire closed her eyes when she heard Trevor's voice, but she didn't slow down as he came out onto the sidewalk behind her. When Trevor caught up to her side, Claire didn't turn to face him, still walking forward. But she didn't speed up either. She looked straight ahead, continuing on. "There's nothing to talk about, Trevor."  
Trevor struggled a little to keep up, still feeling a little sore. "Claire, you've been avoiding me."  
"It's for the best, Trevor. I'm not your therapist anymore."  
"But why haven't I had a chance to see you even if you're not? Claire, I haven't seen you for three weeks! You don't return my calls, you don't answer your door. Jaclyn keeps saying you're busy at the office every time I call, and then makes sure that she tells me nothing at all about you. And now, there's not even a working number there. It's been disconnected. I mean, after you blind sided me with all that 'I can't treat you anymore' stuff... Why can't we talk about it? I think I deserve an explanation."  
Claire kept her eyes straight ahead, trying to keep the sadness out of her voice. She knew she had to do this. "I just... I can't be your therapist anymore, Trevor. It wouldn't be right, considering... everything. There's no great secret. That's all there is to it."  
"Claire, you just can't drop a bombshell like that on me and walk away! Not without talking to me. I mean, what did I do wrong? If you just would just tell me what it is, then maybe I could-"  
"Trevor..." Claire finally stopped, turning to face him for the first time. "It's over. OK? This..." She motioned between them. "_Us_... It's done with. That's all. Sometimes people just move on..."  
"Move on?" He looked into Claire's eyes, beautiful and brown in the sunlight. "Yeah. Right. Yeah, you've really moved on, Claire. Considering how you're dating my current therapist. Good old Doctor Dementia-"  
Claire rolled her eyes, starting to walk again. "Richard's last name is Dehnt, not dementia-"  
"Same difference." Trevor was still having trouble keeping up with her determined strides, but managing to stay at her side. "I can't believe they assigned me to that... that QUACK!"  
"What, Trevor. You would have preferred Dr. Frechette?"  
"Well, sure Dr. Dehnt's better than Captain Drugstore. With that pharmaceutical worshiping, chill pill regimen of his. But come on! Dr. Dehnt? He's about as forgiving as a flesh eating virus at a nudist camp. After his fiasco in anticipating all that Mary/Faith stuff that happened, this is the therapist that the hospital board thinks is going to help me? And to top it all off, as if that wasn't bad enough, you're dating him! He's you're main lovey dovey squeeze now!"  
Claire's lips tightened, but she didn't stop walking, looking straight ahead. Trevor finally reached out and grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks and forcing her to face him.  
"Why are you with him, Claire?"  
She exhaled angrily, before shaking her head and turning away, starting to walk even faster than before. "I'm not having this conversation, Trevor."  
He did his best to keep up with her, the metal cane still gripped in his hand. "Just answer the question. Why are you with him? What... are you keeping tabs on me? A little bit of pillow talk and suddenly you're able to add a whole new chapter to the book you're writing about me? I know it's not because you love him-"  
Claire whirled on him angrily. "Who the hell have you ever been to tell me anything about who I'm allowed to love?"  
"My point is, that's _SO_ really not moving on on your part, isn't it? And speaking of moving on, why were you sitting at Taggerty's just now?"  
Claire couldn't look at him, starting to walk again down the sidewalk. Traffic whooshed by on the street beside them. "Trevor..."  
"Why were you sitting at Taggerty's just now? You must have known I was coming in today. So why were you there?"  
Claire sighed, still striding forcefully forward, sunlight falling warmly on both of them as the store fronts slid past on their right. Finally she decided to tell him the truth... part of it, anyway, trying to pick her words carefully, but still walking. "I wanted to see if you were okay, Trevor. I wanted to see how you were doing. But that's all. I never intended to talk to you."  
Claire suddenly stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face him. The sun felt bright and warm in her face, as a cool breeze wafted softly through her hair. She looked at Trevor affectionately, realizing that maybe she had finally come to accept her decision on some level. Her decision not to tell him that she was in-... Her decision to let him go. "I never meant for it to go anywhere beyond just 'seeing' you there, Trevor. So this is good bye..."  
Trevor looked at her dejectedly, blinking. He couldn't believe it. She wasn't sad. She wasn't angry. Her face almost seemed... content. Her expression was serene and accepting, and she gave him a small smile that instantly cut through him.  
"So... good bye, Trevor. Have a nice... imaginary life. I'm glad I got a chance to know you..."  
She nodded, her face soft as she gazed at him fondly, wanting to keep that in her memories. They looked into each other's eyes for a long, silent moment, so close to each other, but still so immeasurably far away. Slowly, Claire turned, and began to leave, walking away.  
Trevor blinked, realizing she really meant it. And really meant it forever. He started after her again, a little desperate.  
"Claire, wait. Claire..."  
She didn't stop. And no matter how hard Trevor tried, this time he couldn't catch up as she walked faster than before. He helplessly watched her pull further away from him as he struggled forward. There was no sadness in her steps. No reluctance in her shoulders. And she never looked back.  
"Claire!"  
And with that, she was gone, growing smaller as she walked away down the sidewalk.  
Trevor finally admitted to himself that he wasn't going to catch her, and he stopped, growing angry. He threw his useless cane across the sidewalk, frustrated that he couldn't move any faster. It clattered across the cement as he stood there, fuming. He muttered angrily to himself.  
"I"m tired of always being left behind!"  
  
The inside of Dr. Dehnt's office was quiet as Trevor settled uncomfortably down into the single seat in front of Richard's desk. His shoulders were stiff as he looked around, body tense in the chair. He was still getting used to the different furnishings of this office. Trevor hated it here. He never felt comfortable in this place. Never felt at ease, no matter how many times he came here. He had grown to dread these sessions. Dread them with a passion. Sisyphus must have had it easy compared to this. The sessions were never any fun. Trevor had never realized until he had come here how at ease he had felt in Claire's office. Like he was welcomed there... well, usually. But here he felt... like spilled scrambled eggs that Dr. Dehnt looked down on with distain, and was determined to clean up. Where was the public service announcement of Rachel Leigh Cook smashing up a kitchen with a frying pan when you needed her? At least she was cute.  
Richard was seated behind his desk, looking at him. Trevor seemed subdued, he thought. He always seemed subdued during their sessions together. Not at all like Claire had described Trevor to him.  
Pushing the thought aside, Richard inhaled. He had dealt with mythological delusions before with Mary. And despite what had happened to her, the hospital still felt he was the closest remaining thing they had to an expert on Trevor's particular branch of psychosis, outside of Claire of course, when she had worked for the hospital. Opening Trevor's file, he placed a blank notepad beside it, pen in hand as he jumped right in from where they had left off during the last session.  
"So Trevor, let's start again. Tell me about your Cupid delusion."  
Trevor shook his head, tilting it in annoyance as his eyes simmered at Richard. "Do you always have to call it that?"  
Richard didn't seem to falter, still watching Trevor calmly. "Yes. Yes I do. Because that's what it is. So your Cupid delusion. Tell me how the delusion benefits you. How do you gain from it?"  
Trevor's laugh sounded hollow. "What makes you think I gain from it? I... I don't gain from it. It's just who I am. It's what I am. I can't change that. It's why I'm here..."  
Richard nodded, thinking. "Actually... Mary said the exact same thing to me once..."  
Trevor looked at him accusingly, voice full of scorn. "Yeah. That treatment really went well for you, didn't it?"  
Richard's jaw hardened, ignoring that statement as best he could, before he continued.  
"Basically, Mary told me the same thing you just did, Trevor. Almost exactly word for word. Aren't you afraid that..." Richard looked straight into Trevor's eyes, pointedly making his implication clear. "... that you'll end up like her?"  
Trevor didn't move, simmering in an angry silence. He gave Dr. Dehnt a small, empty smile. "I can't be held to the analogies you choose to make...."  
"Then let's consider the analogies you've chosen instead. How does the Cupid delusion make your life better, Trevor?" Richard was still calm as he leaned forward, already starting to write notes on his waiting, empty pad with the pen he held.  
Trevor looked suspiciously down at him writing. "It... It doesn't make my life better. I never said that it does. Sometimes I think my life would be a whole lot easier if I wasn't who I was..."  
Richard stopped writing, and looked up. "Then why do you cling to it?"  
Trevor couldn't believe it, exhaling as he looked away. His face was hard as he answered. "You won't give an inch, will you?"  
"Why are you hiding in the Cupid delusion, Trevor?"  
Trevor couldn't help but grow angrier, rankled by how infuriatingly calm Richard's voice was. "It's not a delus-"  
Richard didn't even let him finish, interrupting him. "What are you running from, Trevor? What are you hiding from inside? Why are you hiding from the real world?"  
"Huhh, you shrinks always make the same assumptions," Trevor said bitterly. "You think you know everything. You think you know all there is to know out there. But it's doctors like you who are really shut off from the real world. There's more out there than you know. You think you have me all figured out, right? Did it ever even occur to you, for even a single second, that maybe I'm _not_ hiding from the real world? That maybe I'm hiding from the gods..."  
That immediately peaked Dr. Dehnt's interest. He leaned forward over his desk, intrigued by the new tract of Trevor's reasoning. "Really... What do you mean, Trevor?"  
Trevor paused when he realized what he had said, annoyed as he bit his lower lip, not really in a mood to explain further. He had known he shouldn't let that slip in front of Richard, even as he had said it. But seeing Richard's expression, Trevor could tell that he wasn't going to let up on this. Richard looked at him with renewed anticipation, like he had found a new toy. Trevor exhaled, reluctantly conceding, not really having a choice.  
"When... when I was shot... when I almost died. The gods didn't lift a finger to help me."  
Richard nodded once at that admission, before responding in a calm, patient voice. "You're right, Trevor. 'The gods' didn't. That should tell you something, shouldn't it? It was people, _real_ people, who helped you."  
Trevor nodded. "Mortals. You guys. It was mortals that seemed to be the only ones that even cared. I couldn't understand why-why the gods did nothing. They just left me there... left me there to die, you know? I couldn't-... I don't know. Maybe that's what they wanted."  
"And now-" Richard paused to scribble a quick note, before looking back up at him. "And now you're wondering if... maybe they arranged to have you shot? Fated it in some way, as some sort of punishment?"  
Trevor laughed disdainfully, hearing those words come from Richard's mouth. Words Trevor knew Richard didn't believe for a single moment.  
Richard continued. "Is that what you really believe that you're hiding from, Trevor?"  
Trevor exhaled nervously, reluctant to answer.  
"I... I don't know, ok?" Trevor's tone had changed. His eyes looked worried, sad. And his voice was slightly angry, but fearful too. "I don't know for sure. Not anymore. I just don't know. Maybe I should finish off what Faith started and find out. Maybe I should walk right out of here and throw myself off the Sears Tower to force the gods hand. Find out once and for all. Shed this... this small, mortal coil. You ever think about that? Have you ever really stopped to realize how small your bodies actually are? You have no idea. Not a clue. And now, I'm trapped in one, trapped with you guys. Trapped in this... this shell. This feeble, bendable, breakable shell. Where your bones break. Your skin breaks. Your heart... breaks. Maybe I should shed this small body and see. See if... if the gods will take my soul back at least." Trevor chuckled in despair. "Don't you get it? There's nothing left for me here! Not since she-... not anymore. I need to go home. I need to get out of here. So maybe I should find out for sure. Force them to take me back, or to just... let me fade away." Trevor's eyes were already moistened over, and he took a breath, lost in his sudden outpouring of words.  
Richard looked at him for several long moments. He seemed concerned at Trevor's reaction. "Is letting someone fade away... letting them shed their mortal coil as you put it. Is that something that you've had to deal with in the past?"  
Trevor glared at him harshly, eyes still glittering. "What is that supposed to mean?"  
Richard watched him quietly. "You would be surprised how often patients subconsciously answer their own questions, Trevor. We usually fear what we've felt or feared before. What you're really afraid of is that you'll die. That they'll let you die..."  
Richard scribbled in his notebook as he spoke, looking down.  
  
_Fear of death. Did Trevor watch someone he cared about die?_  
  
Trevor didn't notice, still a little upset. He shrugged quickly, answering Richard's question and not knowing how to argue the point. "I don't know. Maybe. Maybe the gods don't even really want me back. Maybe it's the real reason they sent me down here, and there was no lesson for me to learn at all. Maybe what happened with Faith is exactly what the gods hoped would happen, and they have no real intention of letting me go home. I mean, I was-"  
Trevor swallowed, pausing in mid sentence. He didn't like to think about it, but he forced himself to continue anyway. "I was that close to dying. If that bullet had been one inch over... Can you imagine that? It all came down to one tiny inch. I mean, I'm the god of love, right? I've been alive for over 7000 years. I've seen things and been places that you aren't even physically equipped to even begin to imagine. 7000 years of all that, the width and breadth of my existence, condensed to one... tiny... inch. And... I would have been gone. Done. And all that time I-... I lay there bleeding. I wondered, where were the gods? Why were they letting this happen? But... they never helped me..."  
Trevor was staring painfully into space with the memory, looking down towards the floor, his eyes sad and introspective, brimming with moisture. He finally looked up at Richard, before trying to hide it all behind a smug smile. "No more Trevor Hale. No more, Cupid."  
Richard looked at him. "No more delusion?"  
Trevor glared at him silently for the rebuke, but said nothing.  
Dr. Dehnt put down his pen, waiting quietly for a few moments. "Trevor... sometimes it's better to finally accept things the way they really are..."  
As Richard continued, Trevor sank a little into his chair, feeling a speech coming. Annoyed, he tilted his head and looked away, his expression hard but level. He began to tune Dr. Dehnt out, hearing his voice only at the back of his thoughts, and starting to remember instead. A sadness slowly crept across his features, as he remembered that morning, before he had come to the session.  
  
_Since he had been in the building anyway, Trevor had gone by Claire's office earlier that day. After talking to her on the sidewalk yesterday he had wanted to see her again, missing her all the more. He had been curious as to why it seemed Jaclyn never seemed to answer Claire's office number anymore. The number had even given him a disconnected message. As he had walked up to Claire's office, his steps slowing, he had understood why.  
Claire's office was deserted. No one was sitting behind the reception desk. Opening her door, the room inside was empty. All her furniture was missing. Her desk, her files, the pictures on her walls, her entire life... was all gone. She was gone, her practice shut down. For what seemed to be at least a week, by the dust. Claire hadn't been kidding. She really was moving on. He had learned a little later that she had decided to devote all her time to being an author now, and to writing her books. The abandoned office seemed like only a shadow of her memory.  
Trevor had stood there, alone in her empty office, stunned by the abrupt change around him, not knowing what to do next. No one else had moved into her offices yet. It all seemed to have happened so quickly, happened when he wasn't looking. He had been going to that office for over two years. One moment, Claire was there. The next, she was gone. Everything always happened so fast down here.  
Still sadly re-living the scene in his head, Trevor could nonetheless hear Richard's voice barging in. Hear it droning on, in that annoyingly patient tone. In his mind he knew he was still sitting in Richard's office. But in his heart he was standing there in front of Claire's door, and only hearing Richard's voice as he remembered.  
  
"Sometimes Trevor, we have to face up to reality. No matter how difficult it is..."  
  
Trevor remembered walking out of her office, turning back to close the door. He had looked up at the glass, looked at the black lettering painted across it. **Dr. Claire Allen. Psychologist.** His fingers had traced delicately over the words.  
  
"Sometimes, Trevor, it's better to just let go... Umm, Trevor?"  
  
In his memories, Trevor turned at that question, as if Dr. Dehnt had been ther with him in front of Claire's door, even though he knew he had been there alone.  
  
_ Trevor blinked when he suddenly realized he was actually sitting in Dr. Dehnt's office. Richard was behind his desk, waiting, watching him silently. Trevor didn't know what to say, the moisture he held back in his eyes brightening even more, sadden by the memories of visiting Claire's office. Finally he nodded, his voice soft.  
"Maybe... maybe you're right." Trevor felt tired, he felt so tired, as he rubbed his forehead. His head bent downward slightly, sighing as he sadly closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of Richard's office around him.  
In his memories, he felt like he was still standing in all those empty spaces where Claire's office had been, where they had both been, together. It felt like he would never get back to a place where any of that ever existed again. The reception desk was empty and desolate. Even Jaclyn was gone. The desktop was absent of all papers and objects. In his mind, Trevor turned from Claire's now empty office, and finally walked away.  
  
Claire was depressed.  
She couldn't deny it to herself any longer. She wasn't handling this as well as she had thought. Not after seeing him yesterday at Taggerty's, all the questions in his eyes she couldn't allow herself to answer.   
Standing in her living room, Claire looked sadly out the front window as the sun went down in the deepening sky. Seeing Trevor yesterday had affected her more than she realized. She missed him. She could almost feel him there with her. There was a literal ache deep in her chest, a sense of empty yearning she thought she should know better than to feel.  
Claire lowered her eyes. She should be past this. She should be past her feelings for Trevor. She thought she had convinced herself that she was. That she had come to accept things the way they were. But seeing him... had changed all those perceptions in her. Maybe she had just been kidding herself the whole time.  
Sighing, Claire looked up at the rich swath of colors glowing along the sunset horizon, before closing her eyes. She could still see his face. Still see the confusion in his eyes at what she had done. The changes she had forced in his life. Maybe going to see him yesterday had not been such a good idea after all.  
Suddenly the phone rang in her quiet home. It took a while for the sound to register in her mind, slowly bringing her out of her thoughts. She blinked suddenly, finally recognizing the sound. Absently, she walked over to the phone and picked it up. For once she didn't worry that it might be Trevor trying to call her again. Right now, she didn't care if it was. Claire nestled the receiver to her ear before the answering machine could pick up the call for her, like she had been letting it do for the last few days.  
"Hello?"  
"Dr. Allen?"  
Claire pulled back a little, disappointed, as she recognized the voice of her book editor. She brought herself back to awareness once she realized it was him. Still, her voice seemed reluctant. "Oh. Gene. Hi. I've... I've been meaning to call you..."  
Holding the phone to her ear, Claire walked across her living room, listening as her book editor started to speak.  
"Claire, hello. There you are! You've been a little hard to contact the last few weeks. I was seriously considering starting a relationship with your answering machine, since it's all I've heard lately. Actually, I was just calling to check in, see how the work's progressing."  
Claire nodded. "It's really coming along, I think..."  
"Great. There's something I needed to tell you, Claire."  
"Good news, I hope..." Claire didn't sound very enthused, her voice soft and tired.  
Her book editor didn't seem to notice. "Yes, it is. Everyone who's read portions of your new book has loved it. They're all absolutely thrilled with the segments that you've been sending in. We really think you might have another best seller on your hands. Really, really gripping... intriguing stuff."  
Claire looked down, answering quietly. "Well... I'm, I'm glad you liked it."  
"More than liked." The book editor continued his praises, trying to stoke her ego. "Adored. Marveled. _Coveted._ We're all waiting with baited breath for more, Claire. It seems to be going well. Gonna be one hell of a book. The way you provide such insightful analysis of Trevor Hale and this delusion he's embraced. Really, quite intriguing. I couldn't put it down. Let's admit it. You're a hell of a writer, Claire. Honestly, I never expected output like this. Your best work so far. Easily topping LOVE, A USER'S MANUAL. All we need now is to finally get the finished manuscript from you, Claire. The publisher's really chomping at the bit. By the way, everyone loves the scene where Trevor gets shot. Really some great stuff..."  
Claire was suddenly angry at the casual tone of his words. Her voice was harder as she interrupted him. "Hey. Wait a minute! That's not just some plot twist, you know! This isn't some... some fanciful yarn I've spun simply for your amusement! Got it? This happened to _REAL_ people. Understand? And people _really_ got hurt. People I happen to care about. God! How can you just-... Trevor was really shot. He almost died. Do you get that? I almost watched him die. This isn't just 'stuff' to me, ok?" Claire shook her head, annoyed at how lightly her book editor took what he had been reading. How callous and unsympathetic he had always seemed to be about Trevor in general.  
There was a silence on the line for a few moments as her book editor realized how upset Claire was. He continued a little more cautiously, but there was a hardness in his voice too at how she had rebuked him. "Well... All I'm saying is that it's a good book, Claire. And your best work in what unfortunately, has been far too long."  
Claire nodded, tongue in her cheek. "Actually... I was still debating whether or not to remove that sequence of Trevor being... being shot. I was always reluctant to put it in in the first place."  
"What? The shooting scene? Why? We all thought it should really stay in. It's a great moment. A real turning point in Trevor's delusion..."  
"I know... I..." Claire seemed reluctant to talk about it, still feeling a little too close to the events, and feeling too close to Trevor. "And I know I always wanted to provide a complete and honest case study of him, I was just wondering if it really fit in with the rest. When I started this book, I wanted it to be about healing, not gunplay..."  
"Why can't it be about both?" The book editor didn't have a clue at how callous he sounded, still trying to mollify her. "It still is about healing, Claire. Really. You've provided some dramatic insight into Trevor's character. Why shouldn't he provide some drama for your book? What a find Trevor is! What a character. I had no idea when I met him before. Besides, the shooting really spices up the story. We don't want you to cut it. In fact, we've loved everything so far, exactly the way it is..."  
"Yeah..." Claire looked sadly out her window again, not sharing in his enthusiasm. The sky was full of orange and reds, as she thought about Trevor. "I just wish it had a better ending. That I would have been able to help him... to cure Trevor of his delusions..."  
The book editor misunderstood. "Don't worry about it. Marketing won't have a problem with that at all. It still holds together very well, even without a definitive resolution. It'll definitely sell as is. Believe me, Claire. You've really impressed all of us. Besides, readers love the mystery of unresolved conundrums. And... even if you didn't get the resolution you were hoping for this time... that just leaves more room for a follow up book, doesn't it?"  
Claire's small laugh didn't hold any mirth in it. "I'm afraid there... there won't be a follow up book about Trevor. I'm... I'm not treating him any more."  
There was a disapproving silence on the other end of the line at that statement. "Well... that's a shame, Claire. Trevor's an intriguing subject. And speaking again of him... do you have any idea at all when you might be sending us the completed manuscript?"  
"Well..." Claire's lower lip fell, reluctant to answer. She paused, looking into her living room. Her eyes suddenly fixed on her writing desk, where a large, sealed, vanilla envelope rested, thick and wrapped tightly, ready for delivery. It was obviously the full, finished book, ready to be sent to the publisher, but sitting there idly for the last several days.  
Claire looked away, unable to look at it. Not wanting to, for some reason. Not wanting to close off that chapter in her life yet. She turned away, holding the phone against the side of her face as she closed her eyes.  
"I... I haven't finished it yet."  
Her voice was soft, as she stood there alone in her living room, the completed manuscript lying finished and unsent behind her.  
  


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	2. string pg 02

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Looking up from the pile of work on her desk, Jaclyn finally saw something that made her smile for the first time all day.  
"Trevor!"  
Her face instantly lit up as he approached her reception desk. She sat in front of the office of the new psychology department job Claire had helped her to get. Jaclyn's desk was cluttered with several teetering stacks of confused and disarrayed case files. She was trying to make some sense of it all, holding a file in each hand, when she finally saw Trevor approaching for the first time in a long time.  
As he walked down the hall, Trevor grinned when he looked at her smiling face. It always surprised him how much her face changed whenever she saw him. Seeing Jaclyn smile like that was like a breath of fresh air as he came closer. He hadn't seen it in far too long.  
Trevor rushed forward and leaned across her desk happily, like he had always done at Claire's office. "Jaclyn! Jackie ooohhh!" It was more of a sensual moan when he said it. "How have you been? How's my favorite water nymph?"  
She laughed. "Trevor! It's so good to see you-" She was about to stand up and offer him a deep hug when the door to the psychologist's office suddenly opened beside them for what seemed to Jaclyn to be the hundredth time that day.  
Both Jaclyn and Trevor looked over before either could say or do another thing. An older, slower moving man, his graying head perpetually bowed in absent thought, came out of the office door and towards Jaclyn's desk, already in mid sentence, as if he had been talking to Jaclyn from inside his closed office, or maybe had never stopped. His speech was soft and mumbled, almost indecipherable as the words seemed to blur together. The older doctor didn't seem to notice, lost in what he was saying and obviously feeling it was all absolutely clear, to him at least. Trevor blinked at the sound of the man's droning voice, his mouth hanging open as he tried to make out some of the old man's soft, mumbled stream of words, but only picking out a few.  
The doctor's obscure speech continued. "So, when... know exactly... resolution of conflict-...ultimate results, of course... So, so important... elusive... resolved through the expos-.... need case file of previous analy-... became abated... resolution of primary psychosis not so-... right, right. My apolog-... You're absolutely right of course... The file number is-... You got all that, right?" The old man paused to look at Jaclyn.  
Jaclyn gazed at him blankly. "Uhhh..."  
"Great great great. Really.... great great that you're... not like previous girl... never understood... not like her.... no, no, no.... you're a really great, great assistant..."  
The aging psychologist, still mumbling, absently dropped a file onto one of Jaclyn's piles, almost missing the mark as he nodded. Still talking in a soft, indecipherable mumble, the doctor turned away, walking slowly back to his office. The file stack he had just added to teetered precariously on the edge of collapse, and both Trevor and Jaclyn darted their hands out to steady it. Sharing a wide, exasperated look between them, they both looked over, not understanding a word of what the old man was still saying as he walked slowly away.  
Jaclyn sighed, and simply replied generically over his continued mumbling, like she had been doing all day. "Absolutely Dr. Hazerman. I'll get on it right away..."  
Still lost in his own world, the doctor paused and motioned vaguely towards her, making what he obviously felt was a vital and crucial point. "At three past-.... essential meeting then, and we-.... stay on top... really glad you're.... you're really great-.... great assis-..."  
Nodding to himself, the doctor never broke his soft stream of words for a second as he went back into his office and shut the door, his voice fading away on the other side. Jaclyn sighed, knowing that if she were to peek in, he would still be prattling on at her from inside his office.  
Trevor blinked, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. "Did he just compliment you on being a great assistant or on having a great ass?"  
Jaclyn shrugged, looked at the closed door. "I have no idea...." Finally she turned to Trevor, forgetting the doctor completely. "Trevor! It's good to see you!" Jaclyn fondly squeezed his forearm with a big smile on her face a they both started unstacking the much too high files on her desk before they could fall over, moving them to a less perilous elevation. Several envelopes slipped to the floor anyway.  
Trevor's face had brightened at Jaclyn's touch on hiss arm, happy to see that at least some things hadn't changed. He felt better in that moment than he had in a long time, seeing her smile. She always showed him such honest, earnest affection when she was flirting with him, even when it was presumably out of habit. "So..." Trevor looked sympathetically around, "this is your new... umm, job..."  
"Yeah." Jaclyn didn't seem to care for the moment, instead smiling at him with a tilt of her head, laughing softly. "Such as it is..."  
Trevor looked at her, eager to speak with her. He had been so preoccupied with Claire lately, that he hadn't realized that... he had missed her too. Missed seeing the light in her eyes when she looked at him. He wanted so much to ask her about Claire, but he was a little reluctant to bring it up so quickly.  
Jaclyn was already busy trying to sort some of the piles of files, looking a little harried. "I'm really, really busy, Trevor. It takes a lot to keep up with..." she looked at all the confused files before her. "...whatever it is Dr. Hazerman has me doing..."  
Trevor smiled at her. "I've missed you, Jaclyn."  
Her hand stopped in mid air and she looked at him, as if an old memory, or yearning... was passing through her in that moment. Trying not to blush, she blinked at him, before looking shyly away. "I've missed you too, Trevor."  
Trevor nodded. He had to ask her about Claire. "Jackie, I was wondering, how has-"  
Suddenly the office door opened again, and Dr. Hazerman stepped out, still prattling on in mid sentence. He held an open book in his hands as he continued, pulled from the dusty, voluminous shelves inside his office, his finger grazing across the text he was reading as he spoke to Jaclyn. Coming halfway to her desk, he then started to walk down the hallway, leaving her behind, before finally motioning for her to follow, mumbling the whole time.  
"Trevor..." Jaclyn began to look quickly around her desk for the files she thought he was talking about. She grabbed them and rose from her chair. "Trevor, I'm sorry. I'm really busy. I've got to go..."  
Seeing his chance to talk to her slipping away, Trevor turned as she walked past him, her arms filled with envelopes. "But Jaclyn, I really wanted to talk to you about-"  
Jaclyn turned to him in the hallway for only a brief moment. "I'm sorry, Trevor. Really. Come to my place tonight. We'll talk then, ok? I've wanted to see you too..."  
She turned back. Dr. Hazerman was already several yards past her, having never stopped mumbling, not even aware that Jaclyn wasn't immediately behind him as he prattled on. Jaclyn trotted over to catch up, following behind and trying her best to keep up with him verbally, if not necessarily physically. She turned one last time, and with a tiny, shy smile, she waved good bye to Trevor, before following the aged doctor around a corner.  
Trevor turned, and looked at all the files cluttering Jaclyn's desk. With the doctor gone, everything seemed so quiet now, absent of his incoherent mumble in the background. Trevor smiled, going behind Jaclyn' desk and beginning to organize her files a little. Looking at the time on the wall, he realized he really had to go too. Then, stopping, an idea came to him, and he grabbed a pad of post it notes on her desk. Picking up a pen, Trevor scribbled on the post it, before ripping it out of the pad and adhering it to the center of Jaclyn's desk where it would be easy to see. Smiling, Trevor turned and walked away, heading for Dr. Dehnt's office.  
The post it note was left behind on her desk. It read:  
**Hey Jackie- I'll see you tonight. And in my opinion, I think Doctor Mumbles was complimenting you on both... Hey, baby got back! Trevor.**  
Trevor walked away, leaving her desk unattended behind him, as an abandoned stack of files that had been placed beside the desk collapsed onto the floor.  
  
Trevor stood in the hallway, trying to psyche himself up. Taking a breath, he shook his shoulders as if preparing for a marathon. The closed door of Dr. Dehnt's office still waited before him.  
"All right. I can do this..."  
Trevor finally resolved himself, stepping forward and reaching for the doorknob. He instantly turned away before he could touch it, jerking his hand back quickly.  
"I can't do this..." Trevor muttered. "I really, _REALLY_, hate this guy..."  
Suddenly a building employee walked by in the hallway, giving Trevor a strange look for talking to himself. Trevor smiled sweetly at him.  
"Good morning... Hi. How are you doing..." Trevor waved politely towards him, hand chopping forward as he nervously waited for him to walk past. Trevor watched as the man disappeared around the corner. Looking back to the Richard's closed office door, a sense of dread filled him again, not wanting to go in.  
Dr. Dehnt was always so infuriating. So smug and sure of himself. So calm... like everything he said was completely reasonable, instead of the total crap it was. Trevor hated being in there.  
Still doing his best to put the session off, Trevor started doing stretching exercises right there in the hallway, as if to limber up for the trial ahead. As he flung his arm out, it knocked a small potted fern over in the hallway. Trevor scrambled to set it upright it again, shaking his head. "Potted ferns. This guy is clueless. Is everybody else here blind?!" He yelled out down the hallway. Turning, he confronted the closed door again. Trevor took a deep breath, pausing, before starting to jog in place, as if to loosed up.  
"Come on. I can do this. I'm the god of love. He's just a mortal. A speck on the rear end of reality. I can handle anything he can dish out..." Trevor looked at the door standing motionless before him for several long moments, before instantly turning to leave, walking away. Then, he stopped, somehow feeling like he was running away from that door. Running away from a... a _mortal_. Tongue pressed into his cheek with disdain, Trevor turned and came back, hands on his hips as he considered the door.  
"I'm Eros. God of love. I can do this. I just... I just can't let myself get angry this time. Sure. Easy as tea in China. Wait... There is no 'T' in China..." With a deep breath, he was about to turn the doorknob, before turning away again. Finally, he turned and went straight in before he could think too much about it and change his mind. Trevor closed the door behind him, vowing silently to himself that he wouldn't let Dr. Dehnt get under his skin this time.  
  
That lasted for about... oh, that long.  
Having just settled himself down in his customary and mandatory chair, Trevor had barely looked up when Richard jumped right into the session.  
"So, Trevor. Tell me which specific romantic entanglement from your past led to your current delusional state. Are there any women that you're sorry got away?"  
Trevor's jaw hardened, already feeling an anger build up in him. His little vow was almost instantly forgotten in the time it took for him to glare at Richard. But suddenly his mind started to wander, honestly thinking about Richard's question.  
  
Reaching up, Trevor knocked on her apartment door, taking a deep breath as he waited outside in the hallway, waiting for her to answer. He had missed the way she always flirted with him, and he was eager to see her again after so long.  
Suddenly the door opened, and Jaclyn looked out from inside her apartment. Seeing him there, she smiled instantly, her expression brightening happily as she rushed forward and hugged him eagerly, her arms wrapping around hi back.  
"Trevor! Hi! Come in!"  
Taking himself reluctantly out of her arms, Trevor smiled back at Jaclyn, grateful for the affection that she had shown him in that hug... the affection that she had always shown him. Pulling him by the hand, Jaclyn led him playfully into her apartment even when he seemed a little reluctant. The door closed behind them.  
  
Trevor looked back up at Dr. Dehnt sitting behind his desk, still in Richard's office as he finally answered Richard's question, eyes glaring at him in annoyance. "Romantic entanglements? I'm a god. There's no such thing for me as-... Wait. Why do you even want to know, anyway? How is that in any way relevant to the whole Cupid thing?"  
  
Trevor was inside Jaclyn's apartment, seated in the well used recliner in front of her couch. Sitting across from him, Jaclyn was sprawled contently in Champ's arms as they both sat next to each other, resting there. Trevor looked at the two of them carefully, silently as he thought about them together and how that made him feel. They seemed so happy together. So perfectly at ease, holding each other close like that. Trevor didn't feel jealousy, exactly. More like... envy. Envy at what they had, at what Champ had, and he had passed up. Would he ever have something like that in his life? Would he ever have that sort of happiness? Looking at the smile on Jaclyn's face, he began to wonder about what he had missed, with her...  
They both seemed to be talking to him, or at least their lips seemed to be moving. Both Champ and Jaclyn were eagerly explaining something to Trevor, talking in tandem as they spoke, laying out their case for something or other. Trevor wasn't really listening, thinking instead about the happiness on both of their faces. His eyes dropped to both their right hands, where their fingers were intertwined and resting on Jaclyn's lap. Trevor blinked, remembering Claire's hand holding his, standing there in the rain, before he had gone into his apartment building. To be shot by Faith. Closing his eyes, he could almost still hear the gun shot echoing loudly in his ears.  
  
From across his office, Richard looked at Trevor, realizing that Trevor seemed distracted somehow. Had Trevor just flinched at some unheard sound? Richard decided to press further with his line of questioning, hoping to get an answer.  
"Romantic entanglements may not be relevant to the god of love, but they're relevant to you, Trevor. To who you are. To who you've become. To why you decided to cling to the Cupid delusion in the first place. It's pretty obvious to me that your Cupid delusion is based on some sort of... romantic trauma from your past. Trauma you may be inadvertently prone to repeat. And, exploring aspects of that... well, I believe it could lead us to, to..."  
Richard's voice trailed off. Usually by this point, Trevor would have provided some sort of confrontational counterpoint to Richard's 'theories'. And sometimes in his belligerence, Trevor would let things slip. Richard knew it was not the best system, but he'd take what he could get. But right now, he could see that Trevor wasn't really even listening to him, still distracted. Richard sighed, waiting patiently.  
  
Trevor looked up, realizing he was supposed to answer, as he sat there in Jaclyn's apartment. Jaclyn and Champ were both smiling at him, looking at him with anticipation, eagerly waiting for his response.  
Trevor shook his head, realizing that he hadn't heard anything that they had said at all. He looked at them directly, not understanding. "What?"  
Neither of them seemed offended, too caught up in their enthusiasm for the subject. Jaclyn leaned closer toward Trevor, her eyes bright. "So... What do you think, Trevor? Give us your opinion. Should Champ and I move in together?"  
Trevor was still a little distracted, but surprised by their statement, as if it had come out of the blue while his mind had been somewhere else. He had still only partially popped back into awareness, thinking of Claire, but he was surprised regardless. "Oh... OH! Live together. Umm... Yeah. Sure. Absolutely. You'd both be great for each other. Without a doubt. It's a great... great idea. I'm very happy for you two."  
Champ and Jaclyn both leaned back with a relieved breaths, all smiles and happy for his approval. They didn't really notice how distracted Trevor was, instead merely happy that Trevor had took it so well.  
"That's great, Trevor." Champ nodded, relieved himself. He looked a little sheepish as he looked away, before smiling at Trevor again. "Actually... neither of us was sure how you were going to take this, considering.... well, considering that I'll be moving in here and you'll have to find another roommate. But don't worry about that, Trevor. I know some really cool friends of mine that might be interested. Once I get them acclimated to your... umm, unique personality."  
Trevor blinked at Champ, not really registering what he was saying, still in a daze. "Hey man, you don't... you don't have to worry about that, Champ. I'll... I'll be fine."  
Trevor looked at the two of them, wondering for a brief moment what it would be like to live with Jaclyn. Wondering for an even briefer moment, why it wasn't him.  
Jaclyn finally noticed how distracted Trevor seemed, how absently he was looking at them. She leaned forward, a concerned look in her eyes.  
"Trevor? What's wrong?"  
  
Trevor looked up at the question, before finally answering Dr. Dehnt, starting to squirm a little in the chair in Dr. Dehnt's office. "Umm... Nothing's wrong. See? There are no romantic entanglements to talk about. None at all..."  
Richard was quiet for a moment, still considering him. "Yes. Yes there are, Trevor... Or there were. Somewhere, there was... It's why you embraced the Cupid delusion in the first place. It's why you hold on to it now."  
  
Trevor didn't know how to answer that as he looked into Jaclyn's concerned face. "It's nothing, Jaclyn. I'm just a little... just a little distracted, that's all. Umm, Jaclyn... I've been meaning to ask you something..."  
  
Richard nodded at what Trevor was saying, looking down as he scribbled a note.  
  
Trevor took a breath and continued, looking into Jaclyn's eyes as he sat in her apartment. "There's something I just got to know. You... you still spend time with Claire, right?"  
Champ lowered his eyes, still holding Jaclyn in his arms as they both listened to Trevor. Jaclyn suddenly seemed a little uncomfortable with Trevor's question about Claire, answering in a soft, reluctant voice, knowing she was in an awkward position between the two of them. "Yeah... I, I guess so. I saw her for lunch yesterday..."  
Sadly, Trevor swallowed, looking at Jaclyn, afraid to ask his next question. Finally, he did, forcing out the words. "Does she ever ask about me?"  
Jaclyn paused, pursing her lips, lowering her eyes as she remembered.  
  
The restaurant had been loud and crowded, in the middle of the noon rush. Claire looked up as she sat at the table with Jaclyn, her expression subdued as they had lunch together. Jaclyn smiled at her, happy that they were still friends even after they had stopped working together, but realizing that something was on Claire's mind.  
Claire's attempt at a pleasant smile wasn't very convincing, feeling a little uncomfortable. "So you really haven't seen much of Trevor then?" she asked.  
Jaclyn shrugged, not sure what Claire wanted to hear. "Here and there. Why?"  
"I just think..." Claire looked down at her plate, not able to look Jaclyn in the eye. "Jaclyn, if you could do me a favor. Don't... don't tell Trevor that I ask about him, ok? I just think that.... that it will help him to move on. Get on with his life, if he doesn't know..." Claire looked up at her again.  
Jaclyn looked at her, seeing how hard that was for Claire to ask. With sympathy on her face, Jaclyn silently nodded, not saying a word, looking at Claire with a touch of sadness in her eyes.  
  
Glaring at Dr. Dehnt as he sat in his therapy session, Trevor angrily shook his head. "Romantic entanglements! Relationship trauma! Cupid delusions! It's all the same to you, isn't it? I can't believe that you-... That' all that you see when you look at me! That's all you've ever wanted to see. You shrinks are all alike!"  
Richard spoke in a soft voice, curious. "Have you encountered many shrinks in the past, Trevor?"  
Trevor didn't seem to hear, or pretended not to, as he barreled angrily on. "It's always this trauma, or that delusion with you people! Cookie cutter counseling! Fitting everything into predetermined, pre-defined shapes. You guys could twist a pickle into a pear, turn a mountain into simply a mole hill with unresolved issues with rock, and then charge out the butt to do it! Well you can't twist me into a shape! It's all so easy for you, isn't it? Just ask a few, really intensely personal questions and you're there! Fine! Let's see how you like it. So tell me Doc. Does Claire still like to come to bed in that little black nighty? And if she does, how does that make you feel?" Trevor's voice was full of sarcasm.  
Richard's face suddenly grew hard, glaring back at Trevor, angry and suspicious. "That information is none of your business..."  
Trevor nodded. "See? It's really a pain when other people, complete strangers even, try to butt into your personal life. But, hey. Why am I telling you. That's your bread and butter, right?"  
Richard was still glaring at Trevor, an unexpected tinge of jealousy in his voice as he softly asked his next question. "How... how do you know about Claire's black nighty, Trevor?"  
  
Jaclyn finally took a breath. She had dreaded hearing that question from Trevor, even though she knew it would come. She hated what she was going to have to do now. Keeping her voice level, Jaclyn looked Trevor straight in the eyes, trying to tell as convincing a lie as she could, just like Claire had asked her to.  
"No, Trevor. She... she never mentions you."  
  
Trevor's eyes widened when he realized what he had just let slip, yet again, in Richard's office. The jealousy he had allowed to creep into his voice. Hopefully Richard hadn't noticed. Mouth hanging open a little with worry, he did his best to try and cover how close he and Claire had been in the past.  
"Nothing... It's... It's nothing. Her old boyfriend Alex gave it to her. He told me about it. Loved rubbing my face in it every time he could..." Trevor sounded bitter.  
Richard nodded, growing a little calmer. His anger dissipated, turning instead from a heat to a deep, hard coldness. Obviously Trevor was lying. But there was some truth to the lie as well. He could hear the jealousy in Trevor's voice when he mentioned Alex, Claire's old boyfriend. A few tiny fragments were starting to fall into place. Thinking about it for a moment, Richard started writing in his notepad, out of sight from Trevor.  
  
_Was Mr. Hale attracted to Claire?_  
  
Looking down at what he had written, Richard circled it with his pen.  
  


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	3. string pg 03

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The night sky was a dim overcast grey. A soft haze of indirect light from the glow of the city hovered over the evening shadows below. Buildings glittered all around in the chill autumn air, their forms puncturing the grey sky as lights sparkled brightly through their windows. There was a crispness in the air, a cold wetness as the night grew deeper. Autumn was past it's bloom as it stumbled towards winter, and there was the threat of snow in the still too warm air. But not yet. Everything was quiet, except for the soft sounds of distant street noises.  
The door to the fancy, upscale restaurant finally opened under the canopy tarp at the entrance. The polished, golden metal on the door's surface gleamed from the dim light of distant streetlights as Claire and Richard stepped out from inside the restaurant. Claire looked sadly up at the cold, grey sky, wrapping her coat a little tighter around herself, feeling the chill in the air. Noticing Claire's reaction, Richard smiled at her, throwing his arm around her shoulder, and giving her a soft kiss lightly on her ambivalent cheek.  
Claire tried to smile at him. "It's a little cold tonight..."  
Richard looked up at the sky himself. "I'll... see if I can get us a cab."  
"No..." Claire touched his shoulder. "No... that's ok. I would kind of like to walk. Let the cool air clear my head."  
Richard looked at her. "Sure, Claire."  
With a smile, he extended his hand. Claire was already looking down the street at the lights in the distance and didn't notice until she turned back to him. Looking down, her lips parted slightly without a sound, realizing he was waiting patiently. She smiled a little, slightly embarrassed she hadn't noticed his hand waiting there sooner. Her hand slowly moved into his in an almost casual gesture, holding it simply in hers.  
Richard didn't notice, looking at her, realizing how stunning she looked. He gave her hand a little squeeze, as they started to walk away from the restaurant, moving down the sidewalk, holding hands between them.  
Later, they were walking beside one of the downtown rivers, moving together slowly in the dim shadows under the distant, misty sky. Soft glowing spherical lamps slid by on the stone railing beside them. Claire was still walking by Richard's side, but she was several feet away now, and they were no longer holding hands. She wrapped her arms around herself quietly as she walked, looking out at the dark waters of the river flowing past under the glittering lights of the skyscrapers beyond, thinking to herself.  
Richard looked at her, unnoticed as they walked together. Claire seemed distracted by something. Something else was definitely holding her thoughts besides him. She seemed... closed off. Neither of them had said much after leaving the restaurant. Strange, how quickly she had stepped away from him the further they walked, not necessarily consciously on her part, almost without thinking. He looked at the space between them as she walked beside him, and out of nowhere, that space suddenly felt like a chasm.  
Claire didn't seem to notice, looking over at him with a small smile. She looked down at the sidewalk slowly passing under their feet, feeling the air cold against her face. She looked at Richard again, seeming a little reluctant to speak somehow. But finally she did anyway, keeping her voice as casual as possible.  
"So... Richard. How are you doing with Trevor? Are the... are the sessions going well?" Her nervous breath misted for a moment in the cool air before her.  
Richard looked at her, walking slowly as the fancy cement railing slid by them, a little surprised that she would ask that question foremost. "Umm... There's really been no progress."  
She nodded, thinking about that as she looked away. Finally she looked back into his eyes. "But he's alright, right?"  
Richard felt a little uncomfortable talking about Trevor for some reason. Somehow it bothered him, talking about Trevor with Claire. Like he was intruding. But he didn't let any of that show in his handsome face, or in his voice, his words misting quickly as well in the crisp air before dissipating.. "He seems ok, otherwise. A bit confrontational..."  
"Yeah..." Claire nodded. "He can get that way sometimes." She paused, her voice reluctant again. "Do you... Do you know if he's happy?"  
Richard looked at her, surprised at her level of interest in Trevor. "Is that a professional question, Claire?"  
She kept it off her face, replying simply. "Of course..."  
Richard looked at her carefully, not really sure what she was thinking. "About the same as before... Happy as he's ever been," Richard lied, not wanting to tell her differently for some reason.  
Claire looked down, still walking slowly with him. The skyscrapers still towered up all around them. She paused, as if her next question was extremely difficult to ask, but knowing deep down, that she had to ask it, no matter what the risk. "Does... does he ever ask about me?"  
Richard watched her quietly for a moment, showing nothing in his face. Finally, he answered. "No... No, he doesn't. And I doubt that he's going to." Richard looked away. His second lie in almost as many steps.  
Claire looked up at his answer, a little bit of disappointment showing on her face. "Ohh..."  
Richard decided to continue in a relaxed voice, something he definitely didn't feel inside, looking up at the city around them. "Actually, I'm currently on a tract in our sessions that says he might still have some unresolved feelings for you. I think he's afraid to talk to me about you."  
A chill went through her. Claire tried to calm herself, keeping it all off her face when she realized what Richard was on to. "Really? I... I had no idea."  
Richard looked at her for a long moment as she walked beside him, seeing the space between them, with her unable to face him. He tried to keep the suspicion out of his voice. "Did you ever see any indication of that while you were treating him?"  
Claire paused, a small inadvertent smile spreading across her face as the memories of millions of Trevor's innuendoes popped into her head. Suddenly she looked around and realized where they were. Her eyes swept across the river beside them, and she realized they were close to the spot where she and Trevor had been walking that night, at the end of their 'double date' with Champ and Jaclyn, when they were trying to get the two of them together. Walking just like she and Richard were doing right now. The memory made her smile even more, until she felt Richard's eyes on her. Glancing over, she realized he was waiting for an answer, and she did her best to give him one, not really sure how convincing it sounded. "No, no.... I don't think I ever saw any indication of that from Trevor."  
Richard's jaw hardened slightly, not sure he believed her. "I assumed you sensed it, Claire. Otherwise... you wouldn't have dropped him as a patient." Looking down, he picked his next words more carefully. "That... that is why you dropped him, isn't it Claire?"  
She looked over and saw the doubt in his eyes, able to pick up on the growing suspicion in his voice. She tried to ease his concerns as best she could, but her voice was a little angrier. "I only dropped Trevor as a patient because I wasn't making any progress in his treatment..."  
Mind working, Richard thought about her answer. He knew there was something she wasn't saying. But what he suspected that something was, he kept to himself. Looking down for a moment, he smiled politely, his voice returning to a false, pleasant tone. "Hmm... Still, it's good that you did drop him, Claire. Better in the long run anyway that you're out of his life. He was developing feelings for you..."  
Claire sighed, wrapping her arms uncomfortably around herself in the chill air. She kept her eyes straight ahead as they walked together, not really sure how to feel anymore. Turning to Richard, she could see he was a little upset, not looking at her. She tried to laugh.  
"It's a little cold tonight..." she said.  
  
The same grey sky loomed dimly in the night outside the window of Champ's apartment. But inside the apartment itself, there were no looming shadows. The interior was filled with soft light, and warmth, and the sound of laughter.  
Trevor smiled, sitting on the couch with Jaclyn, both of them there alone. The rest of the apartment was empty behind them. Jaclyn's eyes sparkled as she sat there with Trevor, her knees curled beneath her, and she laughed again.  
"Trevor! That's so... so..." She searched for the most accurate word. "Explicit!"  
"Actually, I think the word you're searching for is 'intriguing'. But honest to _me_, it actually happened." Trevor laughed with her, enjoying he company. "Cleopatra's sea voyages were legendary way back then. Now that was a woman who really knew how to put the 'naughty' in nautical."  
Blushing, Jaclyn playfully slapped at his arm, still giggling as she looked around the empty apartment. "Where is Champ anyway? I was supposed to help move a few preliminary things of his to my place tonight..."  
"Umm..." Trevor paused, as if reluctant to think about Champ moving out. "Yeah. Right. He-... he must have had to work a long shift at the bar again or something..."  
"Ohh...." Absently, Jaclyn nodded, turning to face him once more. "Still... at least it gave you an me some time together."  
"Yeah." Trevor shifted closer on the couch to her. There was a desperation, a sadness in his eyes. A sadness Jaclyn knew he couldn't cover, no matter how many jokes he told or how many times they laughed. Trevor looked at her. "Jaclyn, please. Tell me. How is Claire doing?"  
She could see it in his face as Trevor paused, see how afraid he was that she would refuse to answer him again. Sighing, she finally conceded, hoping to offer him what little comfort she could. But her voice was uncertain. "She's... doing great, Trevor."  
"Really? Tell me. How is she?"  
Jaclyn coughed, wondering how much to tell him. "Well... By what she's told me, her book is going well. She told me she finished it last week, and is just waiting to send it to the publisher. Claire's still with Richard of course, and she... she seems happy, I guess."  
Trevor blinked at her last statement. "Seems? What do you mean seems..."  
"Well..." Jaclyn looked into his's eyes, not holding back. "Sometimes I wonder, Trevor. I mean, they kiss, they go out, they have a good time. They do all the 'coupley' things that couples do. It's just... I don't know. They both _seem_ happy, but sometimes I feel that, that there's something between them that I don't know about. Umm..." Jaclyn suddenly felt uncomfortable, knowing how Trevor felt about Claire and not wanting to hurt his feelings, afraid she had said too much. She knew how much unrequited love could hurt. "I don't know, Trevor... Maybe, I'm wrong."  
Trevor didn't seem to notice, distracted as he worried about Claire not being happy. He finally looked at Jaclyn again, realizing she seemed to be in a far more receptive moodthan usual tonight for talking about Claire and answering his questions. He swallowed, his eyes a little fearful as he readied himself for his next question, afraid of being hurt again.  
"Jaclyn, please. Be honest with me. I... I really have to know. Does Claire really never ask about me?"  
Jaclyn looked at him for a long moment, a sadness in her eyes as she recognized the pain hidden in his features. She could see how much being away from Claire, being out of her life, had affected him. Jaclyn wanted so much to tell Trevor that Claire asked about him all the time, nearly every day, to offer him whatever comfort that knowledge would give him. But she sighed, knowing Claire was probably right, no matter how harsh it seemed. If Trevor really needed to move on, Jaclyn knew what she had to do.  
Slowly, Jaclyn shook her head no, her face sad, somber.  
Trevor seemed to crumble a little inside, his face going a little blank. He nodded, eyes staring at nothing for a moment, before sadly looking down.  
Jaclyn sighed, almost feeling like she had betrayed him with a lie, and not liking how that felt.  
The front door to the apartment suddenly opened and Champ walked in, smiling when he saw the two of them there, sitting in silence on the couch.  
"Hey you guys. Sorry I'm late." Champ hung his coat by the door.  
With one last worried look at Trevor, Jaclyn rose from the couch and walked over to Champ, smiling warmly at him as she slid into his arms and kissed him deeply. Champ returned her kiss just as warmly, lifting her into mid-air as he held her against his body. A warmth passed through them both, and he finally let her down onto the floor. Behind them, Trevor smiled at how happy they were. But his face was still sad, and he rose from the couch, walking into his darkened bedroom without a word.  
Jaclyn touched Champ's cheek as he held her, smiling at him as her eyes sparkled. "You're late. I missed you..."  
Champ felt completely at ease holding her there, grinning wildly, so happy in that moment to be with her that he could only manage to mumble simply. "Umm... I missed you two."  
Jaclyn laughed as she rested her fingers on Champ's chest, realizing they both sounded like giddy teenagers. She looked over. Trevor was no longer on the couch. As Champ rested his lips against her forehead for a moment, she looked around the apartment, searching. Finally she spotted him.  
Trevor was in the shadows of his bedroom, as a soft light flowed over him, standing beside his bedroom window. He was looking despondently out at the darkness beyond, outlined in the glow of the city. Even from where she stood, Jaclyn could see how miserable he was. How blankly he stared out of his window. She could just make out the small misty touch of his every breath on the cold glass, reacting to the chill air outside before fading slowly away in the soft glow of a distant streetlight.  
Trevor stood there quietly, alone in his bedroom. Stood there apart from Jaclyn and Champ in the bright living room. And apart from Claire, where ever she was tonight. Apart from... everything. Behind him, hanging in mid-air, his string of beads hung there silently, his only other company.  
  
Morning slowly dawned bright and clear over the streets of Chicago. The shadows and looming sadness of the night before seemed to have gone as Claire watched the sky with a smile.  
She was humming a song to herself as she walked up to the post office, carrying the bulky, sealed envelope with her completed manuscript inside. She was feeling better today. Feeling like she had finally come to terms with all this. The song she had heard in the car by Vertical Horizon was still ringing in her ears, and she couldn't get it out of her mind as she opened the post office's front door. Still humming the tune, she started to sing the lyrics softly, feeling that they were strangely appropriate, today of all days.  
"_You're a god, and I am not, so I thought I should let you go..._"  
There was a bounce in her step as she walked into the busy room beyond, holding the heavy manuscript in her arms. She sighed, happy she was finally doing this. It felt good that she was finally getting it over with. Claire had finished her book about Trevor some time ago. Her editor had been hounding her for the last two weeks to send it in, but she had left it sitting there on her desk, sealed, marked, with all the appropriate postage affixed to it. She hadn't sent it in. She had left it there, reluctant to touch it. Until today.  
Today, it felt right. Today it felt like she was finally ready to put the book, and Trevor, all behind her. Once the book was gone, she would never have to see or think about him ever again. Claire smiled to herself, knowing she could do this.  
Still humming the song, she walked up to the oversized mail slot. Taking a breath, she finally opened it, turning the thick, bulky envelope between her fingers to drop it in. Her hands reached forward to push it through... when they stopped.  
The front edge of the large envelope hovered in mid-air, an inch from the waiting, open mail slot as Claire held it there aloft, pausing. The noisy post office lobby was loud and full of motion in the distance behind the waiting envelope, but it didn't move any further, hovering there on the edge of the opening.  
Claire blinked, and slowly pulled the envelope back, holding it in her arms. She couldn't do it. Not yet. She wasn't ready yet. Thinking about it, she had no earthly idea why that was. The book was ready. It was finished. She didn't need to or plan to make any more changes to it at all. But somehow.... in some way that she didn't understand, she couldn't put it in that mail slot.  
"This is ridiculous..." she muttered softly.  
Claire sighed to herself, shoving the envelope forward again. But again she stopped, before the envelope's edge could even touch the slot, hovering there in mid-air, just like before. Her hands were unable to let it go.  
Claire's jaw stiffened angrily, annoyed at herself. Annoyed at how silly and indecisive she must look, standing there in the post office lobby, unable to deliver a simple package. Finally she pulled the manuscript back to herself again, holding it tightly in her arms, thinking of Trevor. She looked at the mail slot for a long, silent moment.  
Claire took a step back, moving away from the slot. Without a word, she slowly turned and began to walk away, the bounce lost from her step. Her face was somber, as she sadly walked back to the front door, her slow steps a marked contrast to all the other busy, hurrying people stepping quickly past her. She opened the door and slowly walked out, still holding the bulky envelope in her hands, undelivered.  
As Claire walked away from the post office and out onto the busy sidewalk, she seemed introspective, holding the envelope close to her. And she was definitely no longer humming.  
  
Claire's car pulled up to curb in front of her house, the engine shutting off. The interior of her car was quiet as she sat there, disappointed in herself. Disappointed that she hadn't been able to go through with it. Sighing, she picked up the manuscript from where it rested on the passenger seat beside her as she opened the car door and got out.  
Claire's thoughts were a million miles away as she stepped around the front of her car and up onto the sidewalk, trying to figure out what she was feeling. Her shoes cruncged through a thin carpet of red and gold leaves, newly fallen from the trees around her, as she walked the short distance to her front door, distracted. Suddenly she looked up as she came closer, and an unexpected thrill passed warmly through her when she realized Trevor was sitting there, waiting for her.  
Seeing her, Trevor rose eagerly from where he had been waiting on her doorstep, instantly moving over to her, his eyes pleading.  
"Claire, I need to talk to you. Please..."  
She pushed down the warm exhilaration she felt at being with him again, forcing her face to grow harder as she stepped quickly around him without stopping, trying to hurry inside and doing her best to ignore him.  
"Trevor, you can't be here..."  
"Claire, I..." He walked by her side, looking at her face even though she wouldn't look at him. Seeing her sent an ache into his heart, missing her even more. How could she be so beautiful? He missed her. Missed her laugh. Missed her voice. Missed... _her_.  
Both of their steps crunched through the fallen leaves as they walked to her front door. Trevor was no longer using his cane anymore, walking more normally. "Claire, I just wanted to talk, alright? To see you. You know, tell a few dirty jokes until you can't help but blush. Make you laugh... Anything! Share some old times..."  
"Trevor, that's not going to happen..."  
Claire made sure she didn't look at him, not even for a moment. She didn't think she could bear to look at him right now. Coming to a stop on her doorstep, her fingers fumbled with her keys, trying to unlock her front door. She didn't turn to face him as he stood beside her, pleading.  
"Look. You're right, Claire. You don't owe me an explanation. It's your life. I realize that, ok? But I just want to be a part of your life for a second, that's all. Instead of apart from it. I just want to talk with you. About anything. I don't care what. Tell me how annoying I am. I'll tell you how you're wrong. I can take it. Please. It doesn't matter what we-..." He looked down and saw the thick envelope in her arms, realizing she must have gone to the post office to pick it up when he had knocked earlier, whatever it was. Trevor watched as Claire finally managed to unlock the door, opening it and going in without a word.  
"Claire I-" He stepped forward but stopped before crossing the threshold behind her, for once reluctant to enter her house uninvited. Claire turned at the sound of his voice, holding the edge of the door as she finally looked at him. The expression on her face clearly showed him that she wasn't going to give in on this.  
Her voice was intentionally hard as she looked at him. "What."  
"Claire..." Trevor looked into her eyes, his lips fumbling for words. "It's just that... I miss you..."  
She could hear the yearning in Trevor's voice, and that he was not able to think of anything better to say.  
Claire looked at him, and her expression didn't change, not moved by his quiet, heart felt plea.  
"Thank you, Trevor..." she answered plainly.  
Her gaze never left his, hard and unsympathetic as she closed the door on him.  
Trevor blinked, staring at her closed door, before lowering his head.  
Inside her hallway, Claire paused, her face crumbling in sadness as her hand clenched into a fist that she held against her mouth, trying not to cry. Turning her head slightly, she exhaled and listened to hear if he was still there. She waited for the sound of him walking away through the leaves. But there was only silence. Claire exhaled again, knowing that his hand would be knocking on her door at any moment. She wasn't so sure that she wouldn't just open the closed door behind her and let him in when he did.  
Standing on her doorstep, Trevor's fist started to come forward, about to knock. But he stopped himself, looking at the closed door again. She wasn't going to talk to him. She wasn't going to answer her door. In so many ways, she wasn't letting him in. His hand fell reluctantly back to his side as he took a deep breath of the autumn air. It felt like it physically hurt him, that closed door. That closed door between them, seemed to cut deep into his chest. Sadly, Trevor wiped a useless tear from the corner of his eye before it could fall. He looked at the door again, feeling excluded, feeling shut out and abandoned, out there alone. Slowly he turned and walked away, moving back to the sidewalk.  
Claire blinked when she didn't hear the knock she had been expecting. She gasped a little, letting go of the breath she had been holding. After a few moments she heard him leaving, steps crunching away through the leaves. Sadly she wiped her eyes, and she desperately clung to the manuscript in her arms, wondering to herself. _When would this get any easier?_ With that thought still in her mind, she walked away from her front door.  
Both of them moved further apart, unconsciously moving directly away from one another. Claire's closed front door was still shut between them. Claire turned and moved quickly up her stairs in tearful retreat. Trevor turned and sadly started to walk away, moving along the sidewalk lining her street, stepping through the colorful fallen leaves under a now overcast sky, his head hanging low.  
Behind them, her front door was still silent, and closed.  
  


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	4. string pg 04

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Dr. Dehnt was exasperated as he dropped his pen down onto his list of scribbled shorthand notes from the current session. Fed up, he glared angrily across his desk.  
"You're not being honest with me, Trevor."  
Trevor didn't seem to concerned as he sat in his mandatory chair in front or Richard's desk. 'I'm being as honest as the truth will allow..."  
Richard glared at Trevor silently, wanting to strangle him. Trevor was being particularly obtuse and stubborn today. And especially about this subject.  
Trevor glared back at Richard from his chair. He looked a little smug, pleased with himself and obviously glad to have turned the tables, since it seemed it was him for once getting under Dr. Dehnt's skin instead of the other way around.  
Richard took a breath, trying to calm himself. Everything was like a wrestling match when he had these sessions with Trevor. But no matter how uncooperative Trevor was being, Richard knew he shouldn't allow himself to get angry. However on this subject, he realized that would be difficult for him to do. He could still hear Claire's voice as they had walked that night by the river, hear her asking him about Trevor. He couldn't get her concern out of his mind, his suspicions twisting and growing in his thoughts. There was something between Trevor and Claire that neither were talking about. So what he was asking was actually important to him, on a personal level. He knew he couldn't keep his personal feelings out of this, but he didn't care. He had to know the truth. So he asked the question again, his voice full of an anger and suspicion which he couldn't hide.  
"You have feelings for Dr. Allen, Trevor."  
"No I don't." He answered simply. Trevor's jaw hardened, and he looked disdainfully away. He would be damned if he was going to talk about this. And definitely not with _him_, of all people, Claire's current boyfriend.  
Richard nodded, ignoring Trevor's denial as he barreled stubbornly forward. "Trevor, these feelings you have for Claire. I need to know about them..."  
Trevor smiled sweetly in response. "How can I tell you about feelings I don't have?"  
"Then tell me about the feelings you do have."  
Trevor sighed angrily, crossing his arms in a stubborn gesture, being deliberately uncooperative. "You're the supposed expert in mind shrinking. Why don't you _tell_ me the feelings that I have. A mind shrinker and a mid reader to boot. Come on, wow me with your... well, let's call it a 'skill' for now ..."  
Richard didn't pause. "You were romantically attracted to Claire Allen while she was treating you, ironically enough, of the delusion of being the god of love. We both know that's true, Trevor. So what's the harm in admitting it?"  
Trevor blinked, getting a little angrier. The pleased smugness he had felt at annoying Richard, which he had never tired of before, was now long gone. Trevor squinted dangerously at Richard, considering him. Richard almost sounded... frantic for answers about this. Perhaps too much so. There was a tinge of desperation in his voice. Certainly more than was warranted on a purely professional level. Trevor began to connect the dots of Dr. Dehnt's interest, remembering what Jaclyn had said about Richard and Claire's problems.  
"Wait..." Trevor said slowly. "Why do you care how I feel-" Trevor corrected his slip, "-how I felt, about Claire. What possible difference would that make in curing me of being Cupid? You aren't... you aren't feeling a little insecure in your own relationship, are you doctor? A little trouble in paradise? You and Claire not happy? What's the reason? I don't know... maybe, I'd be willing to bet on some sort of embarrassing performance problem finally rearing its ugly hea-"  
Richard's eyes were hard as he slammed his hand loudly down onto his notebook, cutting Trevor off. Trevor smiled slowly in triumph, watching the good doctor lose control.  
Hiss voice was soft and simmering, Richard spoke again, having calmed himself. "First of all.. I'm not here to cure you of being Cupid. I'm here to cure you of your Cupid delusion. That _I_ can make that distinction, is why I'm the one on this side of the desk who's here voluntarily."  
Trevor smiled. "Did you just say voluntarily or volatively?"  
Richard ignored him. "And secondly... if you do have feelings for Claire, believe me I have to know about them. And I will. And whatever those feelings are, Trevor... I'm sure they're not genuine. Because delusional constructs such as yours tend to reinforce themselves with further delusional-"  
Trevor exhaled in angry disbelief, shaking his head and interrupting, not letting him continue. "I can't believe you! You actually think any feelings I could possible have for Claire would-, would just be a... a tool to reinforce my supposed delusion?! Wow. That's... that's quite a telling statement coming from you of all people. Amazing. I mean, you are the one who's dating her." Trevor leaned forward to make his point, his expression hard and bitter. "You, of all people, who's lucky enough to know how many countless reasons someone could feel that way about her."  
Richard's voice was calm, but he didn't sound like he agreed with that assesment. "Oh really? What's so great? Reasons like what exactly...?" Richard spoke almost casually, disdainfully.  
Trevor's mouth hung open, not believing what he was hearing. The apathy in Richard's voice was evident as he talked about Claire. Trevor shook his stunned head as if the answer should have been as obvious to Richard as day being day and night being night. He fumbled his words out, shocked he even had to explain to someone who was with her. "Are you kidding me?! Claire's warm. She's caring. She's smart. She's beautiful. I know for certain that she's far more than you'll ever deserve-"  
Richard calmly interrupted him, his voice softening, and for once genuinely agreeing. "Yes. She is Trevor. She's all those things. But tell me. What do any of those things have to do with how you feel about her?"  
Angrily, Trevor exhaled. He sounded defensive, answering without really thinking. "My point is that maybe you should step out of that little psychological box you live in and look at your own life once and awhile! If I had feelings for Claire, then it could be for a multitude of reasons! And not just because of what you prefer to call a delusion! I can't believe I have to explain this to you! You of all people who's lucky enough to be in her life!"  
Richard smiled slightly, feeling he had scored a point on some level. Trevor paused, pulling back slightly when he saw the look on Richard's face. And in that moment he knew he had just been baited, knowing what was coming next even before Richard could speak.  
"So you do have feelings for-"  
Trevor interrupted him, looking angrily away. "No I don't."  
Obviously still pleased with himself, Richard said nothing.  
Trevor looked at him for a long moment, before finally speaking, his voice almost bitter. "I'm a god. She's a mortal. The gods would never allow it. Besides, I can;t fall in love. I AM love. I'm..." Trevor paused. "I'm above all that."  
Richard lowered his eyes, voice growing sympathetic. "Trevor, it sounds like... you almost wish that lie were the truth..."  
Trevor shook his head angrily and rose to stand and simmer on the other side of the room.  
  
Hearing the knock, Claire walked across her living room with a sigh and opened her front door. She pulled back, blinking slightly when she realized Jaclyn was there, surprised to see her standing on her doorstep.  
"Jaclyn. Hi... Come in."  
"Thank's Claire." Jaclyn stepped inside as Claire closed the door behind her. Jaclyn seemed uncomfortable for a moment as she looked at Claire, her eyes a little sad, holding something back.  
Claire noticed, wondering why Jaclyn looked like that. "Jaclyn... What's wrong?"  
The words hovered reluctantly at the back of Jaclyn's throat as she looked at Claire, before she finally forced them out in a rush before she could change her mind. "Claire, I can't do this anymore! It's just too hard... I can't lie to him anymore, Claire. He's so miserable, and I-"  
Claire still wasn't sure what Jaclyn was talking about, but she put a hand on her shoulder and guided her into the living room. "Jaclyn, slow down... ok? Let's just go over and sit down... and than you can tell me. Who's miserable? Who are you talking about?"  
They both took a seat on Claire's couch. Soft light flowed in from her living room window, tinting one side of Jaclyn's worried face as she looked at Claire sitting across from her. Jaclyn took a breath in the quiet room. She wasn't certain this would be what Claire wanted to hear. Finally she resolved herself and looked up, speaking softly.  
"It's Trevor..." Jaclyn said.  
Claire's lips parted slightly, her face growing a little sadder as she thought about him. She slowly nodded, looking down. "Trevor... right."  
Jaclyn leaned forward slightly, desperately trying to make her see. "Claire, he's miserable. He misses you so much. He's... he always has this... this sadness in his eyes now. This hurt..."  
Claire looked away, feelings Jaclyn's words cut into her, knowing she was the cause. She nodded again, unable to face Jaclyn, and looking instead out the living room window as it's diffuse light reflected softly in her sad eyes.  
Claire's reply was quiet. "I know..."  
Jaclyn pushed on with what she had to say. "Claire, he asks about you all the time! I know he's miserable without you. He's not the same Trevor... somehow. Like he's lost a part of himself. Claire, please... You've put me in a really awkward position between the two of you because I care so much about you both. And you've asked me to lie to him, to make it seem like you don't ask about him, or even care about him anymore. And that lie is making him miserable! I just... I just can't do that anymore, Claire. I don't want to. I... I just want Trevor to be happy..."  
Claire looked over at Jaclyn quietly and tried to keep the sadness from her face. But in the end Claire couldn't, feeling it flow through her. She exhaled at what Jaclyn said, hearing the emotion and concern in her words. She could feel each of Jaclyn's word swimming coldly through her chest. She could even almost see Trevor's sadness... see it reflected in Jaclyn's eyes. Claire wiped the corner of her own glittering eyes suddenly, overcome, looking at her. Finally she reached out, laying her hand softly over Jaclyn's.  
"I know, Jaclyn. Really, I do... I want Trevor to be happy too..."  
Jaclyn tilted her head, silent for a moment as she watched Claire. Her voice was soft, cautious. "You know that... that I told you that Trevor's in love with you..."  
"I know..." Claire nodded sadly, trying to keep her composure. "I know, Jaclyn. I knew even before you told me. I was... just never willing to admit it, I guess..."  
Jaclyn leaned forward even more. "Then why won't you see him? Why... why have you cut him out of your life? You've never told me why you stopped being his doctor. Or why it seems that now you can't even... can't even be his friend. Claire, please... Talk to Trevor. I don't want to lie to him anymore. He love's you Claire. Why is that such a bad thing?"  
Claire sighed, lowering her eyes, still holding Jaclyn's hand. "It's not a bad thing. It's not... And that's not the reason why I don't want to see him anymore. Well, not directly..." She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking about the pain she had caused him, before opening them again.  
Jaclyn looked up at her, not understanding. "Then... what is it, Claire?"  
Claire took a deep breath, feeling it all well up inside her. She had kept the secret inside for so long, even from herself. But she couldn't keep it inside any more. Her eyes began to moisten over as she looked at Jaclyn, before turning away nervously, and then looking back. Claire seemed a little uncomfortable, not used to opening herself up this way. She smiled, and sniffed slightly, trying not to cry. Claire's hand squeezed Jaclyn's hand tighter beneath hers. Taking another deep breath, she tried to explain.  
"Jaclyn... You know that Trevor thinks he's Cupid. I mean, you _know_ it. You know it's not an act, not some false front. He really, _really_ believes he's the god of love. You know that. But we both know, deep down in our hearts, that... it's a delusion. A fairy tale he can't hold on to forever. Not without someday, somehow... finally letting it break. I want Trevor... to get well. I want him to get well, Jaclyn. You saw what happened with Faith. How she was never able to really let go of the delusion..." Claire paused, thinking about all that had happened, thinking about Trevor being shot. "I don't want that to happen to Trevor. I don't... I _won't_, be the one who stands in the way of him getting better. I won't do that, Jaclyn. I won't give in to the delusion at the expense of the man underneath..."  
Jaclyn could see how upset this was making Claire, but she knew there was more than she was saying. She didn't understand. "But how are you standing in his way? How is talking to him standing in his way?"  
"Because Jaclyn, I-" Claire paused, taking a deep breath. "Jaclyn please. You can't tell any one this. Jaclyn, I think that I... I love him..." A tear fell down Claire's cheek as she said it, looking over at Jaclyn, her heart and her feelings exposed at last.  
Jaclyn pulled back slightly, speechless. It all made a little more sense now.  
Claire continued, trying not to cry. "You can't tell anyone, Jaclyn. I'm in love with Trevor. With the flawed, delusional man that he is... But the man he is now... he can't be. He can't stay that way, living in a dream world. If I were to stay in his life, I'm... not so sure I would even _want_ him to change. Or even help him to. And he needs to change, Jaclyn. Before the world does to him what it did to Faith. He needs to get better."  
Claire looked at her. "Jaclyn, I've fallen in love with a delusion. It's impossible to ignore, I'm his doctor. If he knew I loved him, if I let myself... _love_ him, it would only entrench his fascade. Or worse. I can't do that. I won't be the one who... who stands in the way of Trevor being cured. Of getting better. Of... finally coming to realize that... that he needs to let go of being Cupid. That he finally has to be, the man he is... And not the god of love he wants to be. So that's why I stepped aside. Because... I _do_ love him...."  
"But why not just tell him-"  
"No." Claire interrupted, wiping her eyes and leaning forward. "Jaclyn, Trevor can never know, ok? He can never know how I feel. I won't be a validation of what he believes. I fell in love with a fantasy. A man who believes he's Cupid. I mean, who did I fall in love with? The delusion or the Trevor underhneath? How can I ever be objective about him again without how I feel tainting that? I won't give in to his 'persona', or be a validation of his delusion. Because if he knew, he wouldn't be able to let that delusion go. Ok? I know he's in love with me. I know that. But he can never know that I love him back. Not if you want him to get better. Please, Jaclyn. Promise me... You can't tell him, alright?"  
Jaclyn looked at Claire, uncertain what to say, sitting there in Claire's quiet living room. She could see the tears in Claire's eyes. And somehow... she knew this wasn't going to have a happy ending. She could feel it in the air.  
Jaclyn lowered her concerned eyes, before sadly nodding once, saying nothing.  
The two women sat there in silence for several moments, outlined against Claire's living room window, as Claire slowly pulled her hand back from Jaclyn's.  
  
The continuing session between Richard and Trevor had degenerated further, into a shouting match.  
Trevor would be damned if he was going to sit in his chair. He was pacing angrily back and forth behind it, his voice raised.  
"Love! You have no idea what that word even means! No clue!"  
Richard was also standing, facing Trevor from behind his desk as he fumed. His voice was full of anger and accusation, his eyes hard as he glared at Trevor. "Just answer the question! You're in love with Claire, aren't you?"  
Trevor shook his head in disgust as he turned away. Then just as quickly, he turned back and stepped towards Richard again, his voice almost a shout as he pointed an angry, accusatory finger towards him.  
"You! You're all alike! You see something... _someone_, who's unique! Who's different, and you label him! You categorize him as, as 'psychotic'! Just because he doesn't fit your pre-ordained standards of what a person should be. And people say I'm the one with delusions of godhood. Look at yourself! You can't toy with people's lives to try to make them into what you want them to be! Whether it's love, a person's sanity, it doesn't matter! Because people have the annoying little habit of having entire lives of their own that you know nothing about! Believe me, if I've learned anything down here, I've learned that!"  
Richard shook his head. "Trevor, there is no 'down here', so-"  
Trevor continued with his loud rant, ignoring him. "But you people! You lynch me because I don't fit in with your plan! Your view of what the world should be! At least in old times... well, old to you, they had the honesty to carry torches and pitchforks instead of doctorates!"  
Even though he himself was still fuming, Richard did his best to try and calm him down. "I'm not out to get you, Trevor. The fictional 'gods' aren't out to get you. I'm just trying to make you well..." Richard recognized the jealousy he was feeling about Trevor and Claire's previous association, but he pushed that aside, believing it was just because of Trevor's feelings for Claire.  
"Make me well?!" Trevor's loud voice was full of disbelief. "You ever think that maybe the way I am now is beneficial to me? You can't just let me believe what I believe? And why not. Because it's not what you believe, that's why! What kind of life is that for someone to have? Limiting... limiting the world to your own set of rules and ignoring the rest. Like walking around with one eye closed all day! Trying to fix things with me that I'm fine with, while ignoring the problems in your own relationship right under your nose! When you look at it like that, which one of us is really crazy here?!"  
With that last little jab at his relationship with Claire, Richard had heard enough. He was fed up with Trevor for not having made any progress. He was fed up with Trevor period. Closing up his case files, he looked up at Trevor, his eyes glittering angrily and his voice soft.  
"This session is over, Trevor."  
  
Night had fallen outside her window as Claire typed busily away on her laptop computer, the screen's glow filling her face as she typed out her weekly newspaper column. She thought about what she was writing, as she doled out advice on love and relationships, and being true to one's feelings. She was the expert on such things, after all. She knew what she was talking about.  
Suddenly, Claire stopped, her fingers pausing on the keyboard. Taking a breath, she raised her head and looked around at her empty, quiet house. She was sitting there alone. She began to realize just how big her house was. There was so much space around her. Empty space. It was a large house. Large enough for several people. Yet she was there, alone. Suddenly, as she looked at all she had written, she felt like a hypocrite. And deep down, she knew it wasn't simply because her house was empty.  
It was because of Trevor.  
Claire sighed and closed her eyes. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him after Jaclyn's visit today, after what Jaclyn had told her. Claire thought about it, opening her eyes as she leaned back, stretching her neck. Maybe she _was_ being a hypocrite. Here she was, giving out all this advice about love and being true to your feelings, and she wasn't taking that advice herself. Claire was silent for a moment, staring at nothing, before she suddenly got up and left her chair, determined.  
The door to her darkened bedroom closet suddenly opened, casting back the pitch black shadows inside. Claire stepped in and looked up, her arms reaching for the small box of Trevor's things at the back of the top shelf. The collection of things he had given her over the years, and which she had pushed into hiding inside of her closet so she wouldn't have to look at them.  
Pulling the box into her arms, she slowly stepped into her bedroom, leaving the closet door open. Her expression was introspective as she settled down to sit on the edge of her bed, placing the box before her. Claire looked at it, uncertain.  
"Well..." Claire whispered to herself. "Guess I should see what I'm feeling..." Taking a deep breath, she reached into the box.  
Slowly, object after object came out in her hands, and Claire became lost in her memories. She delicately placed each item on the bed around her, making an ever growing canvas of... of Trevor. Of what he meant to her. First she lifted the christmas card that Trevor had given her, with the words 'who luvs ya, baby' on the cover and Trevor's smiling face on the inside. Next, the small plastic bottle of bubbles for blowing, with the small wand inside, that Trevor had left swinging outside her front door when her then secret admirer had turned out to be after someone else. She could still remember blowing those bubbles in the park, the sunlight in her smiling face, feeling like a kid again. Next, she lifted the teddy bear Trevor had won for her at the carnival, where inexplicably, he had been a master shot at the ring toss game, like he had been doing it all his life. She placed it aside, thinking of that night, when he had playfully chased her, laughing through the crowd to get it unsuccessfully back.  
Claire's hand reached in again. Her fingers turned, delicately holding the small heart shaped necklace as it's diamonds glittered in the soft light of her bedroom. She knew it was from Trevor. Given secretly to her one valentine's day in a vain attempt to keep her and Alex together when they had been drifting apart. She thought about that for a second. Thought about why Trevor would do that, knowing now how he felt about her. It was actually quite a selfless act, showing how much he cared about her. A warmth flowed through Claire at the thought of Trevor's feelings, and her own.  
Then finally, both of her hands reached in, and lifted the small, exquisite music box Trevor had given her for Christmas that same year. She held it nostalgically in her hands, fingers tenderly grazing the small, winged figurine on it's top. She gently placed it on the bed with all the other items, and lifted the lid.  
The soft, delicate music played in her quiet bedroom, and Claire closed her eyes, thinking about him. She lost herself in her thoughts, feeling momentarily weightless, arms stretched out to either side as she remembered, a small smile on her face as her back slowly settled against the bed sheets. She stretched contently out on her bed, all the things Trevor had given her surrounding her. They were happy memories, all of them. Until suddenly her mind flashed with the image of Trevor, lying in the hospital operating room, moments away from losing his life. And she suddenly remembered... how close she had been then to losing him. She could almost picture what had happened in her mind. Trevor climbing the steps up to his apartment. The flash of the gun. Trevor falling back-  
Claire opened her eyes and snapped out of it, not liking the image. She looked at the things that Trevor had given her, things that in a way were both hers and his, spread out on the bed all around. She missed him. She had been so close to losing him. Suddenly her eyes fixed on the night stand beside her bed, where one of the room's table lamps glowed softly. Under it's light, her phone rested, waiting...  
Claire slowly sat up, thinking. She knew that inside, she was still torn. Torn between her feelings for Trevor, and all the things she knew that were keeping them apart. She couldn't feed into his delusion. But she couldn't deny that she loved him exactly the way he was. She couldn't be certain of anything. But one thought kept coming back. How close she had been to losing him, when he had been shot.  
Maybe it was time to tell him. Get it all out in the open. Reluctant, Claire reached forward and slowly picked up her phone. Holding it against her chest for a moment, she took a deep breath, before dialing in a number before she could stop herself.  
  
Trevor was in his apartment alone. Champ was at Jaclyn's again, something that Trevor knew he might as well start getting used to. Night sky filled the windows outside the apartment as he walked slowly through his living room, looking around. Champ had already moved a few things over to Jaclyn's. There were already a few empty spaces in the unusually quiet apartment.  
Trevor sighed, realizing how quiet it really was. He knew that eventually, all Champs things would be gone. But even now, the apartment already seemed.... bigger somehow. And smaller too. Trevor wondered if he would ever really get used to being alone.  
Suddenly, his phone rang.  
Trevor looked over, wondering who it was. Still a little depressed, he walked over and picked it up, his voice a little tired as he answered.  
"Yeah, what."  
  
Claire took a breath, hearing Trevor's voice in her ear. She closed her eyes, her mind racing.  
Trevor blinked when he heard the silence on the phone line. But he could tell there was someone there. He could hear them on the other end.  
"Hello? Is anybody there?" he asked.  
Claire opened her mouth to answer him... but she couldn't. She exhaled sadly, trying to find the courage to speak.  
Confused at the silence, Trevor started walking across his living room with a casual stride, the phone against his ear. "Hey, if this is an obscene phone call, let me tell you, it's the worst one ever..."  
Suddenly Trevor stopped, listening to the silence on the phone line for several more seconds, wondering what was going on. Then somehow, out of nowhere, he knew. He sensed it on some level he couldn't explain.  
"Claire...?"  
Claire's eyes widened, and she instantly hung up the phone, jamming it down onto it's cradle as she finally remembered to breath again. She looked at her phone like it was an alien artifact, realizing what had just happened. Her eyes shifted over beside it, where her book manuscript was still resting on her nightstand, where she had left it, sealed and ready to be sent, but still undelivered by her phone.  
Claire shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.  
"What am I doing?" she whispered.  
  


------


	5. string pg 05

------  
  


"Dr. Richard Dehnt.."  
Richard spoke calmly as he held up his small picture badge to the glass, flashing his credentials to the burly looking orderly working the door. The hospital's normal psyche ward stretched in the distance behind him as Richard stood there in his white doctor's coat, waiting to be let in through the locked door.  
Behind his small window in the wall, the orderly checked Dr. Dehnt's credentials thoroughly, being meticulous as he entered the information in a log book.  
Richard didn't seem to mind. The two of them had both seen each other countless times before. He knew the orderly by name. But Richard also knew which section he was going into. And he knew that the extra precautions were necessary for the particular ward he wanted to enter.  
Having finished his logbook entry, the orderly looked up at Richard again. His voice was level and businesslike, as cold and meticulous as his writing.  
"And the patient you will be seeing?"  
Richard answered calmly, but deep down, he could feel himself grinding his teeth a little. "Mary Simmons..."  
The orderly looked silently at Richard for a long time. Richard could almost feel the connection the orderly was undoubtedly making in his mind at that exact moment. Mary Simmons. Dr. Dehnt's one, spectacular failure.  
Invisibly, Richard squirmed under the scrutiny, but revealed nothing outwardly. Saying nothing, his face hardened even more, waiting in the silence.  
The orderly didn't say a word, his expression motionless and neutral. Finally he lowered his head, writing in the patient's name. Richard wondered what the orderly must think of him. Then he wondered why he should care. He was just an orderly after all.  
The orderly spoke again without looking up, still waiting to write something further. "And the duration of your visit, Dr. Dehnt?"  
An angry pit opened up in Richard's stomach as he thought about why he had come to see Mary, and the questions he intended to ask. Questions he didn't think he'd like the answers to.  
"At least an hour..." Richard answered, trying to keep his voice calm.  
"Will you be requiring an escort, Dr. Dehnt."  
"No..." Richard said softly. "No, I'll be fine.."  
The orderly nodded simply, entering the last of the information. Richard looked up towards the corner of the ceiling, feeling the lens of the surveillance camera watching him. Behind his window, the orderly placed his logbook aside and looked at Richard for a long second, in no rush. Finally he reached over and pushed a button. There was a small buzz, and Richard's eyes quickly shifted to the small electronic LED light glowing on the door lock before him as it shifted from its red light to the yellow one.  
The orderly watched Richard quietly, calm and unsympathetic.  
"Go on in, Dr. Dehnt."  
Richard lifted the ID he had shown the orderly and swiped it through the waiting card slot beside the now yellow light. There was a soft beep, and the light changed from yellow to green as the lock released.  
Clipping the ID back to the pocket of the lab coat, Richard pulled the unlocked door open and stepped in, before letting it swing shut behind him, hearing it slam loudly. The lock clicked as the door closed. Looking up, a long, bright hallway waited silently before him. It was well lit, meticulously clean, and virtually empty. There were no objects in the hall. No stray items were unaccounted for. Somehow, it just looked watched.  
Slowly, Richard started to walk forward, feeling the camera mounted to the wall above the door watching him as he moved away, feeling it on his back. His mind started to wander, thinking about why he had come.  
Trevor was lying. And Claire had been lying too. He knew that. He knew that both of them... were holding something back. Keeping something hidden from him and most likely from each other. He had to know for certain what that something was. He had to find someone who would be willing to give him the answers he needed. An outside source who had observed Trevor closely for weeks, and Claire too. Someone who had observed the kind of relationship Trevor and Claire had had together, and who would tell him the truth.  
Richard paused for a moment, uncertain. He didn't know if he should be doing this, using his position to accomplish what amounted to spying on Claire, the woman that he loved. It almost felt like a... betrayal, not trusting her. She had never done anything to warrant his distrust, he knew that. But he also knew he had to find out the truth, no matter if it meant going behind her back. Richard finally pushed his doubts aside and started walking forward again. He loved Claire. He would do anything for her. But he had to know where he stood.  
Resolved, Richard continued those last few feet down the corridor, before he inhaled and turned, taking a single determined stride closer to one of the locked doors lining the hallway. Leaning forward, he looked in through the door's small, airtight window as he flashed a small, dangerous smile to the person he saw inside.  
"Hello, Faith." Richard said. "I need to ask you some questions about Trevor Hale..."  
With an angry downward swipe of his ID through the door's lock, he opened it and stepped in, leaving the sparse hallway empty and silent behind him.  
  
For once, Trevor felt relaxed in a psychologists office.  
It was after hours as he sat in front of Jaclyn's reception area desk. The late afternoon sun was flowing in through the window behind the desk, long golden rays falling to the floor in front of him. Trevor sat facing both Jaclyn and Dr. Hazerman, who were seated comfortably across from him as he told his tale. Jaclyn was obviously trying to hide a small smile behind her hand as she sat there. Beside her, Dr. Hazerman listened intently to Trevor's words.  
"So then," Trevor continued, his eyes bright and sparkling, "so then of course I had to tell them that it had never really been a cucumber at all, so..." Trevor paused, looking over at Dr. Hazerman with anticipation once he finally reached the story's punch line. Jaclyn fidgeted a little nervously, uncertain of Dr. Hazerman's response.  
Blinking, Trevor prodded further, hoping for something, anything more from silent, aging doctor. "Umm.... Not a cucumber. _NOT_..."   
Trevor smiled a little awkwardly, feeling suddenly self conscious under the doctor's motionless stare. The doctor didn't seem to be listening to him anymore, instead thinking about what Trevor had already said. Trevor tried to explain a little more clearly. "See, they... they sort of, of thought that it was a cucumber the whole time..."  
There was a long silence.  
Then suddenly the reception area burst with a raucous, unbridled laughter. Trevor blinked when he realized it was coming from Dr. Hazerman. The old's man's face was unexpectedly lit up with merriment. His mouth hung wide open as he laughed hysterically. Ignoring Trevor's feeble attempts at clarification, he had apparently only just now processed the rest of what Trevor had said all on his own.  
Jaclyn's eyes went wide at the unexpected, continuing sound. She giggled as Dr. Hazerman's howling laughter rolled on, echoing clearly down the hallway before them. The old man bent forward as he deeply guffawed, almost losing his breath. Jaclyn had never seen the doctor react to anything like that. She had never seen him laugh so hard. As his hysterics continued, Jaclyn shook her head, sighing with relief. She had known how racy a joke Trevor was telling, having heard it before. But Dr. Hazerman seemed to have taken it pretty well, still laughing so hard that he began to cough. Watching his reaction, it suddenly occurred to her. Was all this exertion safe for a man his age?  
"Hey. Easy there shrink meister." Trevor slapped the coughing old man's back, who was still laughing hysterically. "Don't puncture a pacemaker on my account, doc."  
Still chuckling and finally catching his breath, Dr. Hazerman smiled as he slowly rose from his chair. Seeing that the doctor was leaving, Trevor and Jaclyn rose with him. The aging doctor was mumbling happily to himself, still amused, when he paused and fixed an intense stare on Trevor, his clear, penetrating blue eyes glinting with clarity. The doctor suddenly walked over to him, and Trevor couldn't help but to nervously back up for a moment, uncomfortable with the doctor's enigmatic smile.  
Holding his briefcase under one arm, the doctor reached up with his free hand... and fondly grabbed Trevor's shoulder. Looking into Trevor's eyes, he began to mumble as his words blurred together.  
Trevor stared at the man blankly, without a clue as to what the man was saying. As Dr. Hazerman continued, Trevor simply nodded politely, smiling to humor him, but blinking in confusion as he tried to follow what the doctor was telling him.  
Dr. Hazerman nodded contently, a big smile still on his face, before patting Trevor's shoulder one final time in a gesture of approval. After that quiet moment, he turned and stepped away, shambling off slowly down the hallway, starting to chuckle softly to himself again.  
Trevor looked perplexed, not knowing what the doctor had just said. Jaclyn smiled as she watched the old man leave, her hand resting against her chest as if she felt touched by what he had said. Trevor looked over at Jaclyn with a question in his eyes.  
"What just happened?" he asked.  
Jaclyn's smile grew wider as she looked at Trevor. She laughed, and told Trevor word for word what Dr. Hazerman had said.  
"He said that all the things I told him about you were right all along. That you are a marvelous person, and that he wouldn't change a thing about you. Because there's nothing in you that needs to be fixed. And he told you to never ever let anyone tell you that you're insane, Trevor. Ever. And..." Jaclyn smiled. "He said that you're lucky to have a wonderful, insightful friend like me."  
Trevor's jaw dropped, but it slowly turned into a smile as he looked off the way the old man had gone. "You understood him?" Trevor sounded impressed.  
Still grinning, Jaclyn shrugged. "Sure. Work with him long enough, you pick things up..." Turning, she looked at the afternoon light flowing in through the window behind her, the color warm on her smiling face. "Come on, Trevor. It's getting late. Let's get out of here before they lock us in..."  
Trevor playfully bumped her shoulder with his. "Ooohh. THAT could be fun..."  
Unexpectedly, she slapped him brazenly on the butt, making him jump. Jaclyn shyly bit her lip. "Cut that out, Trevor. Don't start something you can't finish. Besides, I'm with Champ now..."  
Trevor seemed surprised at what she had just done. "Jaclyn! You're a spanker! Mmm, that could be fun too. Several amorous poibilities quickly spring to mind. And all of them bringing a flush to my-" he looked back at where she had slapped him, "...cheeks. Come on, play along Jaclyn. Can't you give a god what I'm sure would be a really pheneomenal break?"  
"A break from immortality, Trevor? Isn't that what you said would happen if you ever... you know, gave in?" She smiled at his flirting. "Besides... if you keep this sort of talk up, when Champ finds out I'm sure he'll happily give a god a break... several of them."  
"Yeah, but his won't be as fun..."  
Jaclyn shook her head as she walked over behind her desk. "For someone who's claims to be omniscient, you sure do keep a one track mind."  
"Occupational hazard..." When he saw Jaclyn gathering her purse and some case files she needed to take home, Trevor moved over to her. "Here, let me help you with those, Jaclyn."  
"Thank's Trevor." She touched his shoulder fondly, before dumping the whole stack into his arms, leaving hers empty as she sighed. Trevor looked at her for a moment, but he only smiled, following her out from behind the desk.  
The rest of the building was quiet around them as they slowly walked away from her desk, side by side. The hallway was empty, since most everyone else had gone home already. They left the rays of light falling behind them.  
"So, Jaclyn..." Trevor's voice sounded reluctant as he shifted the weight of her files in his arms. "What are you doing later on? Do you have any plans for tonight? Maybe we could go see a movie or..."  
"Umm..." She smiled politely. "Champ's waiting for me at our apartment for dinner..."  
"Oh..." Trevor seemed disappointed. "Ok. Sure."  
"I'm really sorry, Trevor. But it's sort of a big deal. Our first full night living together. Champ's planned this romantic meal-"  
"No, I understand, Jaclyn. Really. A little bit of food, a little bit of wine. Some candlelight, romantic atmosphere, and the next thing you know the two of you are christening every reasonably stable and flat surface in the apartment in a really, _REALLY_ good way. Hey, I totally approve. A REAL housewarming. You two have fun on my behalf, ok?"  
"Sure. Thank you, Trevor." Jaclyn blinked, looking at him. "Are you going to be ok being all alone tonight?"  
"Yeah. Hey, I will be. I'm a god. It's not a problem. It's just that... the apartment seems so empty with Champ gone..."  
Jaclyn nodded sympathetically, smiling sadly. But she didn't know what to say to that. She took a breath, her face brightening as she changed the subject.  
"Dr. Hazerman really liked the joke you told, Trevor. I could tell..."  
"So could all of Illinois..." Trevor smiled.  
Jaclyn nodded happily. "I've never seen him laugh like that since-... well, _ever_. Where did you hear that joke, anyway?"  
Trevor's brow furrowed. "Joke? That wasn't a joke. That all really happened."  
"Trevor...." She gave him a skeptical look, tilting her head at him as they continued to walk down the hallway side by side. "Oh, come on..."  
"I'm serious. I was there. You haven't partied until you've partied with the gods, believe me. It was Rome. 1956... B. C. of course. And by B. C. I mean 'before cucumbers'. Ahh... the good old days. Bacchus was passed out in the between the temple columns, the torches were down low, the nymphs' hem lines were down lower..."  
Jaclyn giggled some more as she looked at him. "You know, the doctor's right. There's nothing wrong with you, Trevor."  
Trevor suddenly looked sad. "Sometimes I'm not so sure..."  
She stopped in the hallway and touched his arm again. "Are you sure you'll be ok tonight?"  
He smiled at her. "Absolutely. You guys have fun. Demolish a headboard or two in my honor, ok?"  
Her eyes glinted seductively. "We will." Jaclyn reached out and took the things he was carrying for her out of his arms. "I'd better go. Thank you Trevor. I'll talk to you tomorrow, ok?"  
"Sure. I'll expect a full report. Visual records of any kind will be highly appreciated."  
Smiling at his remark, she was about to leave when she stopped. Turning, she quickly leaned in and shyly gave him a swift kiss on the cheek before instantly walking away.  
Trevor paused, touching his cheek where she had kissed him. As she left, his face brightened and he felt perhaps fractionally better. He thought about what Dr. hazerman had said, and realized the old man had been right about one thing. He _WAS_ lucky to have a friend like Jaclyn.  
Jaclyn looked over her shoulder at him with a smile from the far end of the hallway. She waved at Trevor, and then stepped out of sight around the corner.  
"Have a great night, Jaclyn..." Trevor's said softly as he thought about how he had gotten Champ and Jaclyn together, two people he cared so much about. Not like his old bow and arrow days of shooting couples at random. This one he was proud of, because he cared about both of them. "And you're welcome..."  
Feeling better, Trevor suddenly realized he was standing there alone. The hallway was empty and echoing around him. The elation he felt didn't last. It faded coldly away a he realized there was no one there with him. After a few moments, Trevor took a side hallway and headed home to an apartment that was just as empty as that hallway. And where he was just as alone.  
  
The same rich sunlight was falling into another building all the way across Chicago. It angled down through a clear glass window, golden rays falling into the white, antiseptic hallway of the hospital psyche ward at Lakeview, reflecting off the clean, polished flooring tiles and lighting the sparse white walls to either side with it's warm glow.  
Richard stood in those colorful rays of falling light, his body casting bars of shadows down onto the floor. He was standing in front of a pay phone, facing it with his body ridged and tense as he fumed in silence. His arm was stiff as he pressed his palm against the wall, holding the pay phone's receiver to his ear with his free hand, listening to the phone ringing the number he had just dialed. Richard tried to stay calm, but he was finding that more difficult by the second, thinking over what he had heard in his just completed questioning of Mary.  
"Hello?" Claire's voice answered hopefully on the other end.  
"It's me..." Richard's words were soft, fighting to hide the anger he felt simmering underneath.  
"Oh... Richard. Hi..."  
"You were expecting someone else?"  
"No. No, not at all. Why do you ask?" Claire's voice seemed guarded to him. Her words sounded cautious... nervous. She probably could hear the anger hidden in his voice, but he didn't care. Richard said nothing for a while, his face hard. It suddenly occurred to him that he really wished he could see Claire right now. He wanted to look into her eyes as they talked about this to see what she was hiding. But somehow... Richard knew this couldn't wait.  
"Claire, I need to ask you something..."  
There was a pause on the line. "Umm... Sure."  
He closed his eyes, remaining silent for a second. Lowering his head, his lips formed a tight, angry line. But finally he opened his eyes to look at the sunlit floor beneath him as he continued.  
"Claire... did you ever see any indication, any indication at all... that Trevor was romantically attracted to you?"  
"Trevor?" He listened to her nervous sigh. "Richard why are you-.... where did this come from Richard?"  
Still simmering, he shifted in the bars of light falling across his shoulders. His palm was still pressed hard against the wall, as if to stabilize himself, or to prevent his hand from hitting something.  
"Just answer the question, Claire."  
"Richard, I-.. I don't know why you would think-... Well, I-... I guess Trevor hit on everybody..." Richard could hear how flustered Claire sounded. Her answer seemed to be all over the map.  
Richard's angry expression unexpectedly melted away. His hand slowly came off the wall as he straightened up. Blinking for a moment, her evasiveness devestated him, because now... he knew what it meant. He hadn't wanted to believe it before. Not really. But knowing what he knew now, knowing what Mary had told him, he had no other choice. Not anymore. It all seemed so clear. Why hadn't he seen it before? He spoke again.  
"Did Trevor ever make a play for you, Claire?"  
"Richard, I don't understand why-... Look, I-... If Trevor ever did, I don't even remember it."  
Richard paused, not appeased in the least. He swallowed, before continuing. One final question. One question to make sure.  
"Did he ever kiss you, Claire?"  
There was a long silence on the line.  
Richard closed his eyes, waiting for her answer. The anger on his face was gone. Now there was a sadness, a desperation in his voice as he held his breath, knowing this was the point of no return.  
"Claire, I really need to know..." he said again.  
Finally... Claire answered.  
"No, Richard. He's never kissed me. Of course not."  
Richard didn't know what to say. His eyes stared blankly ahead, taking in her words. Knowing what he knew, his world crumbled. It was done, and things would never be the same.  
Claire spoke again, obviously wondering what was going on. Her voice sounded nervous after he was silent for several seconds.  
"Richard?"  
Richard sighed softly as his free hand rubbed his forehead. He didn't know what to do. He had never known any one else like Claire. He probably never would again. She was beautiful, smart, amazing, so perfect for him. But now he felt lost. The hallway and sunlight seemed to spin around him. Like his entire world was spinning now.  
"Claire... I, I love you so much..." His words were on the verge of a desperate gasp, dancing along a very thin edge. But as always, he kept himself in control. He always had to keep things under control.  
She took a second to answer him, still wondering. "Richard, I... I know you love me. I really do, but I-... Richard, what's wrong?"  
"I would do anything for you, Claire." He looked sadly out of the hospital window, where the sun was already beginning to set, thinking. Why was it that no matter what he said, it seemed like he had already lost her?  
"Richard, is everything ok?"  
With a bitter, whispered half laugh, he tried to shake it off. "Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine Claire."  
"You sure? You sound a little... I don't know."  
"No," Richard nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "No, I'm fine. Really. It's, it's nothing. Umm... how's your book coming?"  
"Actually, I finished it last week."  
"Have you sent it off yet?" he asked softly.  
There was a pause on Claire's end. "No. No I haven't."  
He blinked at her response, and his eyes starting to glitter a little, thinking about her and Trevor. "Guess it's... hard to let go of some things sometimes..."  
Her voice was quiet. "Yeah. Guess so... I don't think I'm happy with the ending yet."  
He closed his eyes.  
"Richard, are you sure you're alright?"  
"Yeah," He listened to the sound of Claire's voice, small and distant in his ear. He felt so far away from her in that moment. Seperated n more ways than one. Perhaps he had never been any closer to her at all. Not really. "I'm fine, Claire. It's just been a long day, I've been talking to a patient of mine. Look, I'll... I'll see you tonight, ok?"  
"Umm, sure."  
"Ok. See you then. Bye, Cla-"  
The phone went dead before he could finish, almost as if Claire hadn't wanted to continued that awkward line of questioning any further, wanting to escape from it as quickly as possible. Richard pulled the receiver from his ear and slowly placed it back in it's cradle. He looked at it sadly, gazing at it for a long time, it's silence mocking him as he stood there alone.  
His eyes began to mist over even more, and his voice was soft.  
"You're lying for him, Claire..."  
Richard finally turned and stepped out of the light flowing in through the window. As he calmly walked away, he left the pay phone bathed in the fading sunlight as it filled the empty hallway behind him.  
  
A new day was glowing brightly over the sprawled expanse of the city beneath it.  
Claire wasn't really looking where she was going as she walked down the streets of Chicago. The sky above was bright and sunny, a mid-morning light falling on her despondent face as she walked dejectedly through the crowd. Cars sped by on the street beside her as she stepped out onto one of the downtown bridges spanning the river, just as she had done a thousand times before. The stone railing slid by her as Claire walked along the busy sidewalk, just another figure in the crowd. The city was noisy and bustling all around her in the sunlight, but she didn't notice.  
It had most definitely been an uncomfortable night last night. Richard had come over, but their time together had been tense from the start, both of them feeling awkward and quiet. And she had no idea why. Soon she had given him every signal she knew of for them to call it a night, and finally he had gone home, never revealing what had caused his mood. Claire began to wonder what she was going to do now. She could no longer deny that she didn't feel connected to Richard. Richard just wasn't... She couldn't help it. She couldn't stop thinking about Trevor.  
Claire had reached the center of the bridge when she finally saw him, standing there patiently on the sidewalk, watching her approach. Coming to a stop a few feet away, Claire looked into Trevor's eyes. Standing in the middle of that bridge, there was no where else for either of them to go, no where else to run.  
They stood there silently as the busy crowd flowed past in either direction, For a while they looked at the sidewalk, the crowd, everything but each other. When Claire finally looked up into his eyes, Trevor tried to break the awkward silence with a smile.   
"So Sparky. Long time no see..."  
Claire sighed. "Trevor, I..." She stopped, looking away, not explaining further what she had started to say.   
Trevor nodded. "I see you haven't really changed your mind about talking to me..." They were both standing several feet apart, looking uncomfortable.  
Claire looked at him, realizing all over again how much she had missed him the last few weeks. She began once more. "Trevor, I-"  
"I know that was you on the phone, Claire..."  
Claire stopped in mid sentence, blinking.  
Trevor looked at her sadly, the light on his face not matched in his eyes. "That night you called? Even though you didn't say anything... somehow I knew."  
Suddenly Trevor looked painfully away at the memory. "Why won't you talk to me, Claire?"  
"Trevor, I just can't, ok?"  
There was heartbreak hidden in his expression when he looked at her again. "I'm sorry, Claire. I pushed you away somehow. Maybe I did some things I shouldn't have done, things that went too fast. I pushed too hard hoping that we would.... Never mind. I still miss you. I miss you so much it hurts..." His eyes were misty as he gazed into her face, as if he was trying to drink in and save a much of her as he could while he had the chance. "Missing you hurts every day. Do you have any idea how that feels Claire?"  
"Yes I do, Trevor." She said nothing else for a moment as the crowd continued to flow past them. "Trevor, I never meant to hurt you..."   
He huffed derisively. "You have a funny way of showing it, Sparky."  
"Trevor, this isn't going to happen."  
"What...!" His voice was a little more animated. "What's not going to happen, Claire? A civil conversation? Us talking for a whole minute without you deciding to cut and run or you trying to make me feel like I'm the lowest god on earth? Without you hanging up on me or slamming a door in my face?"  
"Trevor..." Claire shook her head, her voice emotional as well as she turned away.  
He looked at her. "You know what the worst part is, Claire? That I don't even know why you're doing this to me. What I did, or didn't do--..." He sounded exasperated. "I don't know anything anymore, Claire!"  
Claire turned back to face him, making Trevor blink when he saw how upset she was too, tears forming in her eyes.  
Squinting, she glared at him. "Do you really want to know, Trevor?"  
"You mean you're giving me a straight answer? What's next? The acropolis without a roof? George Hamilton without a tan? Siegfried without Roy? A wing without a pra-"  
"You really want to know?!" She stepped quickly towards him as the sunlight fell on her face, her expression growing more upset.  
"Yes, Claire! I really want to know. You don't even have to phrase it in the form of a question. And all answers will be graded as correct!"  
The anger fell from her face as she looked at him sadly, a silence stretching between them as the traffic and the people on the bridge continued noisily past them. Sighing, she looked away again, reluctant, before turning back to him, trying to force the words out as her eyes misted over more.  
Her voice was heart broken and vulnerable. "Trevor, I can't hurt you like this anymore..."  
Silently, Trevor swallowed when he realized she was serious, but said nothing.  
"Trevor, I..." Claire paused in mid sentence, looking into his eyes as the words finally tumbled out of her. "Trevor I'm in love with you!"  
There was absolute shock on Trevor's face, not expecting that in a million years.   
Exhaling, Claire could take no more. She turned and walked away. Trevor was stunned, still standing there for several seconds, before realizing that she was leaving. He chased after her, starting to walk beside her, his face brightening with pure joy.  
"Claire, that's... that's great! I've always-"  
She could hear the joy in Trevor's voice, see the happy light in his eyes. The exact response she had been afraid to see. She stopped on the sidewalk and whirled to face him, oblivious to the crowd moving past all around them. Her voice was full of anger and despair, trying to keep herself together.  
"NO, Trevor! There's no 'great' here, ok?"  
Trevor seemed confused as he stepped closer to her, softly gripping her arms. "Why not? Love is the greatest thing in the world! I love you, you love me. What's the problem?"  
Claire was on the verge of tears as she looked into his eyes. "You are, Trevor."  
He pulled back. "What?"  
She sighed, knowing it was painful to say this to him. "Trevor, I-... I can't love a man who isn't a real man. I can't love a man who think's he's Cupid."  
Dumbfounded, Trevor looked at her. "But that's who I am..."  
"And that's why I can't let myself love you." She wiped a tear away from her cheek as she looked away. "So... now you know."  
Without another word, she began to walk away again.   
Trevor moved quickly to follow. "Claire, you can't just run away from love. Please. You can't just run away from us-"  
"There is no _us_, Trevor! There never will be an us!" She didn't look at him, still walking forward.  
"Look... I'm Cupid, Claire. I can't change that. I can't change what I am. Who I am inside! And you can't deny that you love me anymore than I can deny that I love you, Claire. I know that you do. So what do-... I mean, what do you expect me to do?"  
Claire stopped again, turning on him angrily, her eyes glittering. "What do you think I expect, Trevor! What have I been trying to do since the first day we met? What have I been trying to do the whole time I've known you? I've been trying to find... YOU, Trevor! Find out who you really are underneath all the crap you parade around for everyone else! I've been hopelessly searching, analyzing, looking for the truth about who you really are! The real, living, breathing flesh and blood man underneath. The person I know absolutely nothing about. And yes. Yes, Trevor. I'm in love with you! Yes, I think about you all the time! Yes I'm miserable since you've been gone. But until you give up being Cupid, none of that's matters! Not until you finally-" Claire paused, closing her eyes for a brief moment, before continuing. "Not until you show me the real you."  
Exasperated, Trevor spread his arms. "This is the real me!"  
Her voice was softer, sad and quiet. "No, it's not, Trevor. This is your shield. Your shield from the real world. Your shield from getting hurt. I mean... who needs love when you're the god of love, right? I can't love a shield, Trevor."  
He looked into her eyes, not giving in. "It's not a shield, Claire. It's not. What it is your excuse. YOUR excuse..."  
She sighed, tired, not really sure she wanted to argue with him anymore as she looked down.  
Trevor continued. "My being Cupid is the excuse you're clinging to because deep down you see my so called 'delusional nature' as a liability! You ever think that maybe you're the one who's afraid of getting hurt? Of letting yourself get close to me? I know you, Claire. Me being Cupid is just a convienient firewall so you can toss me away when I get too close. You couldn't possibly love an 'unstable' man like me right? Olympus forbid! I'm just a nut. A mental patient. Deluded. Psychotic." His voice sounded bitter a he paused, still looking at her. "Sure, I'm Cupid this week, but who know's what I'll be next week. That's the way you see me, right? As a risk? A leap of faith you're not willing to take. What about me, Claire? Do you think the gods will be happy I've fallen in love with a mortal again? You think they'll just let it slide? You ever considered what they'll do to me because of what I feel about you? But you know what? I don't care what they do! I've handled them being angry at me before, I'll do it again. Because I love YOU, Claire! I'm willing to take the risk. Willing to throw my arms to the sky and be the tallest thing for miles..." He looked at her. "But only if you take that risk with me! This is who I am, Claire! This is what I am, for better or for worse. Here you are cutting me out of your life, and my only crime... is that you love me! When we both know deep down that what's going on here isn't my fear, it's yours, Claire. _YOUR_ fear. That I'll turn out like every other man you've loved who's left you. Alex, Frank, your father... So this time you decide to leave me first instead of risking that you'll get hurt. The real me? What about the real you, Claire?"  
Claire glared at him, silent for a while. Then she sighed. "Trevor, nothing will ever happen between us with things the way they are. Not with you believing, what you believe..."  
Stopping in mid sentence, her eyes filled with sadness as she realized what she was saying and what it meant for both of them. She looked dearly into his face, her soft voice one of finality.  
"I'm sorry, Trevor. It's either Cupid, or me."  
Claire looked at him one last time as a single tear rolled silently down her cheek. There was nothing more to say. Slowly she turned and walked away, leaving Trevor there on the span of the busy Chicago bridge. He made no attempt to follow her, watching her go. As Claire walked away from him, she looked straight ahead, crying openly as she moved through he crowd, but remaining silent as the tears flowed down face.  
Trevor finally lowered his head when she was gone, just one small figure in the mid morning sunlight, standing on a busy, crowded Chicago bridge with the river glittering beneath. He turned at last, and walked the opposite direction.  
  
A song began to play, its soft guitar chords sad and introspective, strumming over the bright skyline of the city of Chicago. The city beneath went silently along it's way as the music continued. Cars on the street. People at their jobs. Everything without sound, except for the playing guitar. But finally, a female voice joined in, singing softly, sadly, as the lyrics began.  
  
_That I would be good,  
even if I did nothing..._  
  
As the sad music continued, the front door to Trevor's apartment slowly swung open. He was standing in the hallway beyond it, tired and dejected as he walked in. Closing the door behind him, he looked around the apartment, it's interior lit by the ambient daylight coming in from the windows.   
  
_That I would be good_  
  
No one was there with him. Trevor's apartment was empty. All of Champ's things were gone. There were empty spaces everywhere his things used to be. Empty shelves, empty stretches of floor. Looking mournfully around, Trevor said nothing, before absently walking forward, moving alone towards his bedroom.  
  
_Even if I got the thumbs down..._  
  
Trevor collapsed into his cushioned recliner near the foot of his bed, his mind somewhere else as a tear glittered wetly down his cheek. His thoughts wandered as he remembered that first night of talking with Claire on the phone, remembered hearing her laugh, the sound so soft and honest. That all seemed so far away now. Suddenly he noticed something at the edge of his peripheral vision, and he looked up.  
There, hanging in the air above him, was his string of beads. He stared at them for several long seconds. His beads. His tally to go home. Still hanging there, even after he had lost so much. As he sat in his empty apartment, he could picture Claire's face, wondering if he would ever see her again. But his beads were still there. Small. Inconsequential. His only company.  
  
_That I would be good,  
If I got and stayed... sick._  
  
Claire was sitting alone on her bed, crying her eyes out. The room was slowly growing dark around her, the sunlight fading in the window. She thought about all that had happened, all that she had said to Trevor. She thought about the pain she had seen in his eyes, after telling him she couldn't love him the way he was. And suddenly as she continued to cry, she wondered if it had really been a good idea to tell him at all.  
Tears flowing down her cheeks, she curled up and cried, rocking gently, alone in her bedroom.  
  
_That I would be good,  
even if I gained ten pounds..._  
  
Trevor's face hardened as he thought about what Claire had said. The deepening nightfall filled his window. He thought about all he had given up for his mission. His bedroom was lit by the fading blue sky and by the distant street lights, glowing palely on his face as he thought silently. The beads were there with him. Claire was not. It was a high price. When would it be his turn? When would the god of love finally find love? Why everyone else and not him? The anger grew across Trevor's face as he slowly stood up.  
He fumed, glaring up at the hanging string above him in the shadows. In a grim silence, he looked around. There was a baseball bat propped up against the frame of the door. Without a word, he slowly took it into his hands, fingers curling tightly on the bat's handle as he lifted it.  
  
_That I would be fine,_  
  
He looked up at the string as he held the bat. His mouth was a hard angry line, glaring at all those pathetic little beads and all they had cost him. How much was true love worth?  
Suddenly the anger burst out of him and he quickly swung the bat against the string, the impact instantly ripping the string from the wall and flinging it against the edge of the ceiling behind it.  
Stumbling to regain his balance, Trevor watched as the beads clattered down onto the hardwood floor like rain, bouncing away in every direction. Trevor tossed the bat to the floor, walking away as the beads danced and rolled to a stop, scattered everywhere. As Trevor walked into the living room, he didn't look back.  
  
_Even if I went bankrupt..._  
  
Richard cautiously opened Claire's front door, listening. The walkway behind him was covered in shadows, the sky above the deep blue of late evening with the last remnants of the day. Claire hadn't answered when he had knocked, so he had used his key. He stepped into the house, worried about her as he closed the door behind him. Listening for a moment, he finally walked up the stairs to the second floor.  
When he opened her bedroom door, Claire was crying in the dark. Even in the dim light from the window, he could still see her, sitting against the headboard on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees, weeping. He blinked at the image. And somehow he knew. She was crying for him. She was crying for Trevor.  
Without a word he moved over to her, seating himself beside her. Her eyes were full of tears when she looked up and realized he was there. She instantly she fell into his arms, crying against his shoulder.  
  
_That I would be good,_  
  
Richard said nothing, rocking her gently back and forth. He held her tightly, caressing her hair, letting her cry. Nothing had to be said or explained. Just as long as he stayed there with her.  
She continued for several minutes, and Richard's brow furrowed even more, sharing the pain she was in. Claire was in shambles, her feelings for Trevor were obviously tearing her apart.  
  
_If I lost my hair and my youth..._  
  
Wiping his own tear away before it could fall, Richard nodded to himself, a new determination on his face as Claire continued to cry. He couldn't let Claire be put through this again. He couldn't let Trevor do this to her. He had to fix the situation. Suddenly Richard knew what he had to do.  
Holding her tighter, he rocked her gently as she continued to cry, two small figures sitting near the headboard, as the night deepened in the bedroom all around them.  
  
_That I would be great,_  
  
Claire was sitting at Taggerty's the next night. The bar was full, and Claire was trying to go as unnoticed as possible in a back corner as music played loudly around her. She had some of her old newspaper columns on the table before her, thinking about what to write in her next one, reading through them. But she was distracted.  
  
_ if I was no longer queen..._  
  
She could feel him there, in the room, knowing exactly where he was even with her eyes closed. Claire sighed, trying not to think about it. Finally she couldn't deny the impulse any further and she looked up.  
Trevor was seated in front of the bar on a bar stool. A filled shot glass rested on the counter to his left, and he lifted it and downed it with one swallow, before clumsily placing it beside the growing row of overturned, empty shot glasses to his right, wincing at the string of the alcohol. He grabbed the bottle he had appropriated from beneath the bar to serve himself again, but it was empty. Dropping it absently onto the counter, Trevor rubbed his forehead.  
Claire watched from across the room. She knew he hadn't seen her there, so she continued to watch him, filled with curiosity. Trevor rubbed his tired eyes. In his present condition, Claire knew that was in no way a surprise.  
A man walked through the crowd on Trevor's right, drawing closer. A woman approached from Trevor's left, talking to a female friend. As they both passed each other behind Trevor's back, a third customer squeezed out of the crowd and ran past them both, making the man and woman bump into each other inadvertently, and into Trevor in the process as they held precariously onto their drinks.  
  
_That I would be grand,_  
  
Claire watched as Trevor turned around. The man and the woman both stopped in their tracks, starting to awkwardly apologize to each other and to Trevor as well. Some of their drinks had spilled on the other's clothing.  
From where she was observing, Claire paused, waiting for what she knew Trevor would do next.  
  
_If I was not all knowing..._  
  
Trevor's eyes were sullen as he looked at the man and women standing behind him. The three of them exchanged glances in the awkward silence, as the moment stretched on. Trevor finally nodded at their apology but said nothing. With a sigh he turned away, ignoring them.  
The man and woman acknowledged each other without a last glance, before turning and going their separate ways, moving in opposite directions, each already forgetting the other.  
Across the bar, Claire blinked to herself, thinking. She wondered what she had done. How had what she had just seen made Trevor any better?  
  
Richard lowered himself down into the chair behind his desk in his darkened office. It was dark outside, and shadows hovered in the corners of his office, the interior lit only by a single desk lamp. Slowly he opened a drawer and pulled out a form. With a sigh he placed it on the desk in front of him, suddenly growing reluctant. He wasn't sure he should do this. Closing his eyes, Richard remembered Claire crying in her bedroom, remembered the pain Trevor had caused her.  
Nodding to himself, Richard knew this was that right thing to do. For all of them. He swiveled over towards his manual typewriter, and slowly slid the form in.  
The music grew louder.  
  
_That I would be loved..._  
  
The alley behind Taggerty's was cold and dark, lit dimly by a distant streetlight, as an obviously inebriated Trevor Hale stumbled slowly forward. He teetered on his feet, steps moving left and right and criss crossing as he hummed a sad song to himself. He began to talk to no one in particular, commiserating with himself in an indecipherable babble. Slowly his body began to tilt forward, before finally falling face first against a trash can. The trash can clattered loudly away across the cement, spilling it's contents as Trevor lay sprawled at it's feet, already snoring loudly. Totally passed out, an empty liquor bottle rolled out of Trevor's hand.  
  
_Even when I numb myself..._  
  
In his office, Richard looked up when he finally finished typing. Realizing with shock what he had just done, he slowly lifted his fingers from the keys of the typewriter, reluctance on his face. Thinking better of it, he reached forward to throw the form away. But then he remembered what Trevor had done to his relationship with Claire, and he paused. Anger flared quietly in his eyes, and he suddenly pulled the form free. Dropping it into a vanilla envelope, he sealed it and wrote on the envelope's exterior label, addressing it to who he needed it delivered to in the building.  
  
_That I would be good,  
even when I'm overwhelmed..._  
  
Picking the envelope up, Richard held it in his hands, before reaching over and turning off the lamp on his desk, plunging his office into darkness.  
A different pair of hands, Claire's hands, held the thick envelope of her manuscript as she turned on the light in her darkened front door hallway. She was dressed, ready to go, and she checked herself in the mirror. She would deliver it today. It was time to end this. Glaring at her own reflection, she took a deep breath to psyche herself up, before she turned out the light. She opened her front door and walked out into the morning light, heading to the post office to deliver her completed manuscript. Pausing, she looked at her car for a moment, before deciding stubbornly to walk.  
  
_That I would be loved,  
even when I was fuming.._  
  
Trevor shoved back the curtains from his bedroom window, his eyes dreary and red as he squinted up at the rising morning sun. Shading his eyes with his palm, Trevor moaned, feeling the sunlight drilling deep into his aching head. He turned away, letting the curtain fall back into place. He walked towards the front door, moving across the living room in his sweats and t-shirt, before slipping on some shoes and a heavy coat for the chill outside. Leaning down Trevor picked up a box by the door and walked out into the hallway. Closing the door behind him, his hand released the doorknob.  
  
Claire's hand gripped the door handle at the post office as she opened it, exiting the building. The doors swung shut behind her as she stepped into the morning light. Frustrated, she squinted up at the sun, before looking down at her arms, where she still held her book manuscript, not ready to let go of it yet again. She looked back into the post office at where she had come. She had gone in fully intending to go through with it, confident she'd be able to this time. But somehow, she still couldn't. Holding the sealed manuscript in her arms, she turned and walked away, moving off as her form grew more distant.  
  
_That I would be good,  
even if I was clingy..._  
  
Trevor's form grew closer as he walked out into the alley near his building, heading for the garbage. He knew he was hung over. Severely so. He could deal with that. He just wished he could find a way get that satyr that had snuck into his head last night from doing so much stomping and gymnastics under his skull. Still in a haze, he carried his box over to the trash can and dumped it in.  
  
_That I would be good,  
even if I lost sanity..._  
  
Some of the contents of the box spilled out slightly, but Trevor didn't look back, walking away. Trevor's string of beads, reassembled, was resting haphazardly over the edge of the trash can. Underneath it was all the notes and scraps of paper Trevor had written, schemes and counter schemes to get couples together, all of it discarded. The string of beads was left there with the garbage as Trevor walked away, moving out of sight around the corner of the building.  
  
_That I would be good,  
whether with or without you..._  
  
The song continued for several more moments, a sad instrumental over the empty shadowed alley, before it finally, faded away...  
  
For once, Richard and Trevor were both quiet as they sat in Dr. Dehnt's office, both saying nothing as they started their next therapy session.  
Richard couldn't look Trevor in the eye, shifting in his chair behind the desk, before nervously checking his inbox for a reply to the request he had sent off to the hospital board. But just like when he had checked it a second ago, there was still nothing there.  
Trevor was silent too. But his eyes were glaring dangerously at Richard, staring at him angrily and not saying a word.  
Richard noticed Trevor's glare. He finally exhaled, exasperated. "What. What is it, Trevor?"  
Trevor stared at him for several more seconds before finally answering. His voice was quiet and hard. "Do you think you make her happy?"  
Richard pulled back in surprise. He didn't have to ask who Trevor was referring to. "Trevor, what are you say-"  
"Have you ever considered..." Trevor was still glaring at Richard. "... that maybe you're standing in the way of her being happy?"  
Richard began to grow angry himself. "Trevor, what did Claire tell you?"  
Trevor shook his head bitterly, looking away as he thought better of it. His voice was a whisper. "Nothing... She didn't say anything."  
Richard's eyes were full of suspicion, considering Trevor as now he glared silently across the room.  
Trevor finally sighed before looking back at Richard again. "Anyway.... here's some good news, doc. I've got a little announcement. Something that should make your day. I hereby certifying.... that I'm retiring from the delusions of grandeur business. I'm no longer Cupid. I never was. I'm just... a small, ordinary, hopeless mortal. Like I've always been. I've thrown out my beads. I've given up my mission. So you see, you should be happy. You've beaten me down. You were right the whole time. It was all... a delusion. I know now I was wrong to believe I was anything more than what it seems I am. You've won, Dr. Dehnt. I'm cured..."  
"That's... great, Trevor."  
Richard leaned back in disbelief after a few moments. Trevor said nothing else after his pronouncement, looking sadly away. Both of them sat there in the silence, wondering if either of them really believed any of it.  
  


------


	6. string pg 06

------  
  


There was an awkwardness in the air.  
Claire and Richard were facing each other across a dinner table in the middle of a fancy, upscale restaurant. They had eaten there many times before, since it was a favorite of both of theirs. It was a fairly elegant place, quiet and refined, all the tables covered in fancy cloths, low lighting from numerous candles, customers all around talking in soft, muted conversation. A violin played in the corner, simple and elegant. Frank and Claire sat across from each other at one of those tables, uncharacteristically subdued. They usually had a good time here. But tonight Richard and Claire just sat there, poking at their food in an uncomfortable silence.  
Claire wasn't even looking at him, her thoughts a million miles away. But there was an almost imperceptible sadness in her eyes that she couldn't hide.  
Richard paused, studying her expression as he lowered the fork he held. He could see that she was distracted. But regardless, she looked like a vision in the soft light of the room, stunning... and perfect. Her hair was arranged just so, a single dark strand curling down the curve of her cheek. Her gown was breathtaking, flattering her and her figure, bathed in the soft light around her. She was so beautiful. And yet... sad. Richard wondered where Claire's heart was in that moment, since she seemed so far away. He wondered is she even saw that he was there.  
"Claire..." He asked softly.  
She looked up at the sound of his voice, her brown eyes looking blankly at him for a second, before coming out of her thoughts and remembering where she was. "Oh... I'm sorry, Richard."  
Silently, Richard nodded, still watching her. Claire still seemed so sad. He reached across the table and rested his hand on hers.  
"Claire, do you know how much I love you?"  
Claire's smile was small and perfunctory, her thoughts still somewhere else. But her pleasant expression was brief, disappearing almost instantly. "Of course I do, Richard..."  
Richard watched as she lowered her eyes. Claire was still absently poking at her food, her face subdued.  
Pursing his lips at her silent demeanor, Richard pulled his hand away from hers. "Claire is something wrong, because I-"  
"What..?" Claire said softly as she looked up at him, snapping out of it. "Umm... no Richard. Really, I-.... Nothing's wrong. I'm just not feeling very talkative tonight, I guess..."  
Richard didn't believe that for a second. Claire was absently poking at her food again, slowly, her eyes only on her plate. It was almost as if she couldn't bring herself to look at him.  
Richard stared at her distracted expression for a long moment, finally forcing his next words out before he could think better of it.  
"Claire, why have you never told me that you love me?"  
Her shoulders stiffened, and her fork paused on her plate. She blinked once, still looking down, but her expression didn't change. She didn't look up. Turning the fork nervously in her fingers for a moment, Claire placed it aside and reached for her wine glass, taking a sip as if she hadn't heard what Richard had said. Her eyes never looked up at his.  
As the silence stretched on between them, Richard's slowly leaned back, thinking to himself, realizing she wasn't going to answer him. Lowering his eyes, he went back to the meal before him, both their utensils making quiet noises against the plates as they ate in silence, surrounded by the other crowded tables of the restaurant.  
  
Champ sighed as he held Jaclyn close to him.  
It was afternoon of the next day and they were both sprawled out the couch in what was now their mutual apartment. As they lay there, they were draped in each other's arms, Jaclyn resting her head against his chest. The small apartment was quiet around them. Peaceful. There was no television running, no radio, no distractions. It was just the two of them, softly lit by the white cloudy sky of a cold, overcast Saturday glowing outside the window. They were both watching the sky, waiting to watch the snow that the weathermen had been promising for days, but which had still not fallen. Nothing more complicated than that. But it was enough. In that moment, they needed nothing else but each other.  
There was a knock on the front door, and both Champ and Jaclyn looked up at the sound, coming out of that contented moment. Champ gazed down at Jaclyn.  
"You expecting someone?"  
"No..." Jaclyn rose from his arms, curious. "Not really..."  
She stood and walked across the living room to the front door, leaving Champ behind on the couch.  
Jaclyn opened the door but stopped in mid motion when she saw Claire standing there in the hallway outside, obviously on the verge of tears.  
Claire's words were soft, starting before Jaclyn could say anything. "I told Trevor that I love him..."  
Eyes widening, Jaclyn didn't know what to say, speechless. She glanced back at Champ. Champ rose to a seated position as he looked at Claire, just as stunned as Jaclyn was.  
Claire wiped her eyes, her voice sounding a little shaky. "I-I can't believe I'm still crying. I've been crying sort of off and on for the last few days. Sometimes it just starts out of the blue and it's-... it's funny, because I'm not usually like this and-..."  
With a sob she stepped forward and collapsed into Jaclyn's arms. A little caught off gaurd, Jaclyn held her softly as Claire continued to cry. Her arms wrapped warmly around her, holding her tight as Claire cried into her shoulder.  
"Jaclyn, what am I going to do?" Claire whispered in despair.  
Behind them, Champ was already on his feet. Without a word, Jaclyn looked at him, and somehow he understood. Champ reached over and took his coat off the back of a chair, slipping it onto his shoulders. He headed for the door, moving off to find Trevor and to leave Claire and Jaclyn alone together, seeing how upset Claire was. Kissing Jaclyn lightly on the cheek, he stepped past them and into the hallway, looking worried as he disappeared out of sight. Jaclyn closed the door behind him slowly, still holding Claire, leading her into the apartment as she cried.  
  
There was a knock on Trevor's door, and unexpectedly, it swung open partially with the impact, having not been completely shut. After a few moments, Champ took a cautious peek into the quiet apartment, his eyes scanning across the living room, but seeing that it was empty.  
"Trevor?"  
Slowly, Champ walked in from the hallway and closed the door behind him. He looked around, rubbing his arms over his jacket to drive away the chill of the air outside. The apartment was a mess. Left over fast food containers were everywhere. Clothes were draped half haphazardly all around. Bare expanses of dusty open floor dotted the room where Champ's furniture had been. Trevor hadn't rearranged his things since Champ had moved out.  
"Trevor..?" Champ called out again, his footsteps loud on the wood flooring, the apartment silent around him. Wondering where he was, Champ suddenly hear a soft, tired moan from Trevor's bedroom. Moving towards it, Champ stepped into the open doorway, gazing down at the bed.  
Trevor was sprawled on his stomach on top of his rumpled bed sheets, fully clothed and moaning softly as he rubbed his aching head. An empty whiskey bottle was nestled in the crook of his arm as he lay there.  
Champ waved his hand in front his nose at the stench wafting out of the room. He whispered softly to himself. "I really hope that smell is only alcohol..."  
Sighing, Champ tried to be patient as he walked over and carefully sat down on the edge of the Trevor's bed. He looked over his shoulder at Trevor's rumpled and disheveled appearance. Reaching out, Champ shook the one shoe that Trevor still had on his feet.  
"Wake up, Trevor...."  
There was a soft yawn. "Just a little longer, mommy. Tell the Satyrs to figure it out for themselves..." Trevor whispered, half asleep.  
Champ shook Trevor's foot more forcefully.  
With a moan, Trevor lifted his head in a dreary haze, wondering what exactly it was that was shaking his foot. His unkempt hair was pointing in every direction. He managed to focus through the confused colors over his vision, dimly seeing Champ sitting there beside him. Suddenly Trevor's eyes lit up. His voice was hoarse and gravelly, speaking softly.  
"Champoo...?" he asked uncertainly.  
Champ nodded, smiling slightly in understanding, amused at Trevor's condition. "How's your head?"  
"Champoo!!" Trevor was a little more awake now, smiling as he sat up. The bottle in his arms rolled away from his body and fell off the edge of the bed. Trevor's shoulders jerked at the loud, unexpected sound of the bottle hitting the floor and rolling away. Reaching up, he held his ears as if the sound were slicing into his skull. Slowly opening his eyes, Trevor looked at Champ, before reaching clumsily out and clamping his fingers happily on Champ's shoulder.  
"Hey! Mr. Terrace! The prod-a-gal son returns! What are you doing here? Jaclyn kick you out already?"  
"No. Actually I came to see-"  
Trevor nodded, interrupting. He patted Champ's shoulder. "Hey, tough break. I understand, man. Don't worry. I'll get the two of you back together. You two will work this out..." Trevor rubbed at his sore temples, getting an idea. "Hey, come on and join me for a drink! Oh... Can't. It's all gone. You know, I never really saw what old Uncle Bacchy saw in all this booze stuff, but now that I'm down here, I'm beginning to. It's a great anesthesia from the fairer sex. Hey, we'll commiserate together! Women. They're nothing but heart ache and heart break, my man. If only they didn't come in such really great packages..."  
"Trevor... Jaclyn and I haven't broken up. We're doing fine." Champ looked around at the wreck that was Trevor's bedroom. "I don't know if I can say the same for you..."  
"Don't worry about me, Champoo..." Trevor moaned as he rolled away the bed and rose shakily to his feet. "I was just doing some abstract redecorating...."  
"With liquor bottles?" Champ picked up another empty bottle from the nightstand beside the bed.  
"Yeah..." Sadly, Trevor looked at Champ. "Yeah, that was pretty much what I was going for...."  
His entire body obviously aching, Trevor stumbled gingerly towards the living room, not even glancing at the now empty corner of the wall above his head.  
Champ put the empty bottle aside and followed Trevor out into the living room, looking once at the empty place where Trevor's string used to be, knowing that Trevor had made sure not to look at it.  
Walking out of the bedroom behind Trevor, Champ frowned. "I noticed your string of beads was out in the trash can when I came in..."  
Trevor didn't turn around. "Are those still out there? Huh... You know what, the sanitation collection really sucks in this city. No one comes around to haul off the garbage nobody wants anymore..."  
Champ paused, standing in front of the sink as Trevor stepped around behind it and into the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator. Champ looked over at him. "Feel like talking about it?"  
"Not really...." Trevor opened the refrigerator and pulled out milk carton, drinking it straight from the box like he always did, tilting it back. Some of the milk dripped down the stubble on his unshaved chin and onto his wrinkled, stained t-shirt.  
Champ looked at the milk box, and realized it had been in there for a while, since before he had left. "Umm... Trevor. That milk is old. It's really out of date..."  
Stopping, Trevor pulled down the carton and looked at the expiration date. With a shrug he finished it anyway, before wiping his mouth with his arm.  
"Join the club..." he replied softly.  
  
Across town, Jaclyn and Claire were seated on Jaclyn's couch in her apartment. Jaclyn sat there patiently, holding Claire's hands softly in her own as she leaned forward and listened to what Claire was saying, watching the tears sparkle in Claire's eyes.  
Claire continued. "I told Trevor I loved him, Jaclyn. I thought it was for the best that he knew why I stopped seeing him. But now... I don't know what to do anymore." Her voice was full of despair.  
Jaclyn leaned forward. "It's ok, Claire. I'm here. Just tell me what happened. You told Trevor you loved him? When?"  
"A couple of days ago." Claire sniffed. "And to be honest, that's not what I told him. It's worse than that. I told him I couldn't love him because he thinks he's Cupid..."  
Jaclyn looked at her sadly.  
Claire wiped her eyes. "I hurt him. I saw it in his face... when I told him that I couldn't love... _Cupid_. That I couldn't let myself love him the way he is, the way he wants to be.... I hurt him so much, Jaclyn."  
"Claire, I'm sure he knows you didn't mean it."  
"But I did mean it," Claire lifted her gaze to look at Jaclyn, her eyes still filled with tears. "That's the worst part of all. I did mean it..."  
Claire was silent for a moment, searching for words that would explain what she felt. Jaclyn waited patiently. Claire's voice was soft when she spoke again. "I can't let myself love him, Jaclyn."  
Claire looked out the window, her last words a soft, desperate whisper as a single tear finally slid down her cheek. "But I do...."  
  
Champ lowered his gaze as he stood facing Trevor across hi kitchen. "So... I heard Claire finally admitted that she loves you..."  
Trevor's face was empty, not looking at Champ. His knuckles rapped nervously in sequence against the countertop, soft in the quiet room. "Umm, yeah. She did...."  
Champ watched him silently. "Are you ok?"  
Trevor didn't respond, lowering his eyes and staring into space.  
Champ tried again. "What happened, Trevor?"  
"She..." Trevor leaned forward, resting his palms against the counter top as he tried to hold in what he was feeling. "She said it wasn't going to happen between us..."  
"Why?" Champ blinked. "What did she say, exactly?"  
"She said..." Trevor sighed, unable to stop his face from growing a little sadder despite the unconcerned front he was attempting. "She said I'm not a real person. That she can't let herself love me because.... I'm not real. Because I'm not _being_ real, I guess. Not with her.... She said she can't love me as long as I believe I'm Cupid... Which sort of puts me in a tight spot, you know?" Trevor laughed weakly.  
Champ nodded slowly. "So you decided to get rid of your beads?"  
"Yeah." Trevor took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did. Got tired of looking at them. I don't need them anymore..."  
Lifting the out of date milk carton he had emptied and still held in his hands, Trevor arced it through the air and into the trash can with one shot.  
  
Claire sobbed once, softly, before she continued.  
"Jaclyn... everything I love about Trevor, is changed now. I've ruined all the things in him that I fell in love with in the first place. Without even knowing it... His light. His spirit. His lust for life. His elation for love, for being in love, no matter who's experiencing it. His unstoppable faith in the power and resiliency of the human heart to triumph over all the things that keep people apart.... That's what Trevor is! That's who he is inside! And I've ruined that. I've changed who he is, and finally it forced me to realize.... maybe I didn't want him to change in the first place."  
Jaclyn leaned forward. "Trevor's still the same person. He is, Claire. Why-... how has he changed?"  
Claire looked at her. "I was at Taggerty's. I saw him. He was drinking. He was drinking a lot. And he wasn't... _Trevor_. Not anymore. I watched as a chance to put two people together fell right into his lap... and he turned away. He turned his back on--on love. He didn't even know I was there. That wasn't the reason. He just didn't care anymore, Jaclyn. And that's my fault. Trevor didn't seem to care about anything. I've taken away the best part of him, the part that made him the most human. The part that I fell in love with. I've taken away his heart..."  
Claire's eyes filled with tears and Jaclyn reached forward to take her into her arms, letting Claire's tears drop onto her shoulder.  
Claire cried softly. "What have I done?"  
"What you've always done..." Jaclyn swallowed cautiously. "Claire.... I think the real question is... why are you always pushing Trevor away?"  
Pulling away, Claire rose from the couch, tearful and desperate, as if she were unwilling to admit something even to herself. Jaclyn still watched her.  
"I don't know Jaclyn...I-" Claire didn't sound like she believed it. "I guess because I--..."  
Jaclyn's eyes were full of understanding, knowing how hard this was for her to say.  
Claire squirmed, reluctant as she stood there. Her eyes misted over even more as she thought about it, glittering in the soft light as her face went sad. Her words were slow and soft. "Every man I've ever loved has left me. My father... Jack. Alex. Frank. And I'm afraid that... I don't want Trevor to hurt me too..."  
  
Trevor looked up at Champ. "I'm giving up on the whole god thing..."  
Champ pulled back, stunned to hear him say that. His words were soft and full of disbelief. "You're giving up? Don't you still believe that you're-"  
"I don't know!" Trevor interrupted, shaking his head. ""I mean, I... I don't know anymore. Maybe everyone else is right..."  
Trevor walked past Champ and out of the kitchen into the living room.  
Champ turned where he was. "Everyone who, Trevor?"  
Trevor stopped and looked back at him, a hard expression on his face. Annoyed, he finally admitted it. "Everyone. You. Claire. Dr. Dehnt. The hospital. The board. The whole world. Maybe you're all right and I'm wrong to believe what I do. I used to be so sure. You have no idea. Flying around, hanging out with the other gods, living forever. It was as real to me as you are now. But since I've been down here.... what if I really am delusional? What if I'm kidding myself? I mean, deep down.... I know what I think I know. But how do I really know what I know? I mean, what if my memories... are just figments of my imagination? Some sort of coping mechanism like all the shrinks say? How does anyone really know what's real? When everyone else is saying that you're crazy. When they're saying that they can't fall in love with you because you're..." Trevor looked away. "A delusion."  
Champ was silent as Trevor continued.  
"I'm just not-..." Trevor exhaled angrily, throwing up his hands. "Maybe I am insane and I just don't know it. I mean, would I even realize it if I were? Or would I just keep on believing the fantasy?"  
Trevor grew quieter, looking away. "Champ, have you ever felt like you just don't fit in anymore? That the world has moved on without you, and you no longer have a place in the grand scheme of things? That... no one cares who you are anymore, or if you really exist. That's where I am now. I don't know. Maybe I really am insane."  
"But what if you're not?" Champ stepped closer to him, looking sympathetically into Trevor's eyes. "Look, I'm not saying I have the answers. And I know what Claire said hurts. But you--... you've always been so certain. I know you're not sure of yourself right now, but that doesn't mean that you should just--"  
"Yes it does, Champ. I'm surrendering. I'm giving up. It's over. It's done. Hate to break it to you Mr. Terrace, but... Cupid doesn't live here anymore."  
Trevor turned and started to walk away.  
Champ blinked. "So you don't believe you're him?"  
"Oh I believe..." Trevor thought about it. "I'm just not so sure I should."  
  
Claire looked at Jaclyn, tears falling down her cheeks. "I've got to tell him."  
Tenderly, Jaclyn wiped Claire's face dry. "Tell him what?"  
"Tell him that I made a mistake! That I don't want him to change. I've got to tell him that I was wrong, Jaclyn. I've got to tell him..." Claire paused, thinking about it, and her face crumbled. "It's all so impossible. I've got to tell him....to hold on to his delusion."  
Jaclyn hugged her, trying to help Claire get her composure back a little. "Maybe it's what you both need to hear."  
Claire pulled back and looked at her. "But what if I want that because it's good for me and not because it's good for him? Can I be that selfish?"  
"It's not selfish, Claire." Jaclyn held her hand and smiled sadly at her, her voice bittersweet. "It's love..."  
  
Champ was still thinking about what Trevor had said. He shook his head. "I don't believe that. You and Claire can still work this out. Once she realizes-"  
Trevor shrugged. "There's nothing to work out."  
Champ looked at him. "Maybe. Or maybe you should give it a little time. Giving up on being Cupid isn't the answer. Not if you don't really believe it. Because in the end, you can't make someone fall in love with something that you're not. In the end, you have to be true to yourself, Trevor." Champ looked down. "Both of you do..."  
Thinking about it, Trevor stood there with his arms crossed before him, looking at nothing. There was still a sadness in his eyes, and he was quiet for several seconds as Champ stood there next to him. Then out of nowhere, totally unexpectedly, Trevor quickly turned around and gave Champ a deep, genuinely grateful hug.  
Surprised, Champ hugged Trevor back as they stood there.  
After a long while, Trevor pulled back from him with a small embarrassed smile. "You're a good apple, Mr. Terrace. Always knew that. Look... I understand what you're saying. Really. But it's time to throw the toga into the ring and stop fighting it. Time to lead a boring, ordinary... mortal life. Don't worry about it. It's for the best...."  
Trevor clapped Champ warmly on the shoulder and walked away. Champ stood there, realizing that for now there wasn't much more he could say that would change Trevor's mind. So he changed the subject.  
"Umm... Trevor, as far as your roommate situation goes, I found someone I think you should meet. A struggling actress friend of mine named Allison. I know you can't really swing the rent here on your own, so I talked to her and she's shown some interest in moving in here with you as your roommate. Besides, she needs to find a place, and... I thought that maybe you could see her next week..."  
"Yeah..." Trevor's thoughts were somewhere else. "Sure. I'll... I'll have to do that..."  
Without another word, Trevor turned and walked into his bedroom, leaving Champ standing there alone.  
Champ wasn't sure he had accomplished much by coming over. But he didn't know what else there was to say.  
  
Across the city of Chicago in Jaclyn's apartment, she still held Claire close, rocking her back and forth slowly, sitting on her couch. And neither of them found anything else to say either.  
  
Dr. Hazerman walked slowly down the hallway of his office building, trying to move forward as best as he could down the corridors. His office was somewhere far behind him, but the old man was in no real rush, carrying several completed case files in his hands. He was in a good mood. Normally he wouldn't be taking these files to the central office himself, but today he was, since it was Jaclyn's day off.  
Dr. Hazerman didn't mind doing it. He knew that the case files he had worked on weren't all that important, having realized years ago that the hospital was basically keeping him on as a courtesy for all his prior years of service. They still looked upon him fondly of course, but they didn't really trust him anymore. Not with anything serious anyway, preferring to give him small, cream puff cases to occupy his time. Dr. Hazerman wasn't fooled, and neither was any one else. But he didn't mind. He still loved his work, no matter what the capacity. It still felt good to be useful, and a contributor for as long as possible, even if the board didn't really have much faith in him anymore.  
But when it came to his true abilities, Dr. Hazerman knew better. His eyes still sparkled with a keen intellect that was as sharp as it had ever been. He was far more aware than any of them thought. And he knew far more about what went on around him than they would ever believe. He was still capable. Let everyone think what they wanted to because of how he talked. How they percieved his mumbling didn't matter to him, not really. Because he loved doing this too much to stop.  
Slowly Dr. Hazerman stepped into the central office. He looked over at the main desk where a bored looking male office assistant was processing several files through a computer.  
The slowly moving doctor smiled, shambling slowly over as he greeted the young man with a soft, pleasant mumble.  
Looking wearily up, the young man paused, still holding a case file in his hands. He let out a soft, resigned sigh when he recognized who it was, being polite even though he didn't understand a word that was being said. "Good morning, Dr. Hazerman...."  
The doctor mumbled again in response, talking incoherently.  
After a few moments, the office worker awkwardly tried to answer. "Umm... right. Thank you... I guess. How are you today?" The young man looked back at his files, not really listening.  
Dr. Hazerman chuckled as he answered pleasantly, placing the case files he held on the counter. He continued to speak to the office worker in a friendly manner, his quick non sensical words blurring into one confusing stream.  
"Right... Right..." The office assistant said absently, still going over his work and not really listening. He had learned that was best approach whenever Dr. Hazerman was around. "Absolutely. Sure. Umm-hmm..."   
The assistant continued to work as the doctor prattled on. The young man was typing in the information from the case file he was working on, before closing it and moving on to the next. Dr. Hazerman didn't seem to mind, still mumbling as he leaned against the counter. The assistant grabbed the next file in his stack and opened it. He paused as he read the name. With a sympathetic, yet not too concerned shake of his head, the assistant let out a sigh as he looked at the file.  
"Trevor Hale..." The office assistant whispered.  
Dr. Hazerman stopped when he heard that name, and his face brightened even more. Chuckling, he began to ramble on indecipherably about Trevor, talking happily.  
The orderly noticed the change in the old man's voice. He was still totally lost in the mushed stream of words, but he couldn't help but smile. "You like Mr. Hale?"  
Still mumbling, Dr. Hazerman nodded, basically talking fondly to himself as he remembered.  
The assistant started to tune him out again, looking sadly down at the case file. "Yeah. I like him too. He's a good guy. It's too bad though... Well, at least maybe now he'll get the help he needs..."  
Dr. Hazerman blinked, looking at the assistant, not understanding.  
The young orderly noticed his expression. "Oh... I thought that you would already know. Dr. Dehnt has been granted a hospital review board to evaluate having Trevor committed to a psychiatric facility..."  
The old doctor was speechless for a moment as his expression fell. Almost imperceptibly, he slowly stepped back.  
The assistant seemed concerned, blinking at his reaction. "Dr. Hazerman? Are you alright?"  
The aging doctor said nothing, thinking about what the assistant had told him, looking off into space. Then without another word, he turned and quickly moved away, heading back to his office at the closest he would ever come to a run again. He had to call Jaclyn. She would know where to find Trevor. He had to be told about this.  
The office assistant sighed when Dr. Hazerman was gone, accustomed by now to the doctor's confusing eccentricities. He shook his head as he watched him leave. "Your one strange cookie, Dr. Hazerman..." the assistant whispered.  
Looking back down at the file, the assistant's eyes seemed a little sad as he read it, thinking of Trevor's approaching life, shut away from the world in an institution. Closing the file, he bounced it sympathetically against his palm.  
"Good luck, Trevor..."  
With that, the office assistant moved the request folder to the outbox, ready to be sent back to Dr. Dehnt's office. Without a second thought, he was already hard at work on the next case file.  
  
Trevor had cleaned most of his apartment.  
He was standing in front of his sink, dutifully washing the dishes he had ignored for a whole week. All the trash was gone in the living room in front of him. The furniture was neatly re-arranged. Everything was clean and in it's place. Trevor had been busy. He was tired of the trashed out way he had been living the last week. It was time to clean himself up. It was time to go on with his life.   
As he scrubbed, Trevor's eyes couldn't help but shift to the folded newspaper resting on his kitchen table. He had skimmed through it when he had brought it in of course, but for once he hadn't gone immediately to the back to peruse the singles ads. Well, not twice through, anyway. Old habits die hard. As his hands worked on a severely crusted plate, his eyes shifted back to that newspaper, thinking about the singles ads, all the lonely desperate people crying out for help in those small, tiny, paragraphs.   
"No..." Trevor shook his head, speaking softly to himself. "No I can't. None of my business anymore. Just think about something else..."  
He looked back at the paper again. "Well... maybe just a quick look... For old times sake...."  
Trevor pulled his hands out of the soapy water and wiped them dry. He started to walk eagerly towards the newspaper with a smile when the phone rang. Pausing, he looked reluctantly over as it rang again, before he finally changed his course, moved over, and picked it up.  
"Hello?"  
"Trevor!" It was Jaclyn's voice on the phone line, and she sounded frantic, desperate. "Trevor, I'm so glad I caught you! I don't know what to do!"  
"Jaclyn, what's wrong?"  
"Dr. Hazerman called me just a second ago, Trevor. He was working down at the central office and he saw a request that had been filed. Dr. Dehnt has asked for a hearing before the hospital review board to have you committed into a psychiatric facility! Trevor, we've got to do something! If they take you away-"  
Trevor couldn't believe it, anger soon flaring across his momentarily stunned face. His voice was low and seething. "Why that arrogant little son of a--"  
"Trevor, what are we going to do? They can't just lock you up!"  
In a rage, Trevor swung at the washed dishes he had just placed beside the sink without thinking. They clattered angrily to the ground, some shattering onto the momentarily clean living room floor as Trevor stepped away, fuming. "I can't believe he would go this far. Why that little--..."  
Taking a deep breath, Trevor held back from shouting several multiple and explicit obscenities that suddenly came to mind in several multiple and explicit ancient languages. He paced back and forth in his apartment, the phone still against his ear. Trevor's mind was racing, trying to find a way out of this. Looking up, his eyes darted over the walls around him, feeling suddenly confined, feeling like the walls of his apartment were slowly closing in on him. Like the world itself was closing in on him. He had to do something, before the familiar walls of his apartment were replaced with other, less pleasant walls. "Uhh...."  
"Trevor?"  
"I'll stop him, Jaclyn. There's got to be a way. I don't need to be institutionalized! The Gods' honest truth. Dr. Dehnt knows that as much as I do. That little... _lint bucket,_ won't get this past the hospital board. I'll make sure."  
"Lint bucket?"  
"Hey, that used to be a big put down in ancient greek..."  
"But Trevor, it's your word against his! How will they ever believe-"  
"Look, I'll handle this, Jaclyn. Dr. Demented won't force me to go anywhere. I'll go over to his office right now and stop him from doing this. That little mortal doesn't know what he's up against. He won't get away with this, even if I have to beat some sense into his thick psychiatrist skull..."  
"Trevor, wait. Maybe you should calm down and-"  
"Calm isn't really doing it for me right now, Jaclyn!"  
"I understand that. I'm just saying don't do anything stup-"  
"I'm tired of this, Jaclyn! I'm tired of getting pushed around by a bunch of shrinks! That's all that's happened to me since I've been down here!"  
"I know, I just think you should think about-"  
"I gotta go, Jaclyn. Bye."  
Trevor hung up on her as she started to speak again, his eyes full of rage, his body tense and seething. He started to pace again, thinking through it. His feet crunched through the remnants of the shattered dishes on his living room floor.  
"Come on, Eros. Think...." Trevor's voice sounded frantic.  
The phone he still carried in his hand rang again and he instantly hung up without answering, knowing it was Jaclyn calling back. Trevor stopped in mid-stride, thinking for a moment, and he began to dial a number.  
"Claire... I'll call Claire. She can help me. She's a psychologist. Maybe she can find a way to-"  
Suddenly reluctant, Trevor paused... and hung up the phone before he could finish dialing. He growled softly to himself in frustration. "I can't get her into the middle of this. I won't have her jeopardize her career for me. I have to do this myself. DR. Demented. If only everyone could see how big of an assho-.... Wait. That's it..."  
Trevor's fingers darted over the keypad with a new purpose in his eyes, dialing a different number.  
"Hello?" A husky, female voice answered.  
"Hey. It's me. You said you owed me a favor for hooking you up last summer. Well... it's time to pay up...."  
  
Claire's apartment was empty and quiet. No one was home. The living room was silent. A pale overcast afternoon sky filled the front window. Suddenly the phone's ring broke into the noiseless room, filling the air with an almost shrill sound. It rang several times before the small black answering machine on the end table picked up, a tiny red light glowing on it's surface as it played it's simple recorded message.  
  
_Hi, this is Claire Allen. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you. Thanks..._  
  
There was a soft beep, and suddenly Jaclyn's frantic voice could be heard in the quiet house, coming through the answering machine's small speaker.  
"Claire pick up! Claire please pick up if you're there! Oh god.... Look, I just told Trevor that Dr. Dehnt is trying to have him committed and he was furious! He went totally crazy! Ok, so maybe crazy isn't the appropriate word right now, but I don't know what Trevor's going to do Claire! He's headed over to Richard's office right now! Claire, you've got to go over there and stop him! You've got to-"  
There was a loud beep from the machine and Jaclyn's voice suddenly cut off as the recording time ended.  
Claire's house was quiet again. No one was home. The rooms inside were all motionless and empty. On the electronic answering machine in the living room, a small red light blinked in the silence, but there was no one there to see it.  
  
A song was going through Trevor's head, forceful and angry. A song that was resonating in his skull, resonating with how he felt, his steps coming down hard on the asphalt. Loud guitars, strong chords, strident lyrics with everything coming to a head. He could hear the lyrics even now.  
  
_One man come in the name of love,  
One man come and go...._  
  
Trevor was fuming, thinking about what Richard was doing to him. His eyes were filled with an angry light as he strode forcefully ahead down the middle of the busy, downtown street, skyscrapers towering all around him. The air was cold and overcast. People filled the sidewalks far off to either side. A tide of cars moved and honked to either side of him, well within arms reach. But Trevor was oblivious to everything around him, still swimming in his anger. His black leather coat flapped behind him as he walked brazenly down the street's center stripe, not caring anymore what was in his way.  
  
_One man come, he to justify  
One man to overthrow..._  
  
A taxi approaching Trevor saw him too late and swerved to avoid hitting him, its tires screeching on the asphalt as it came to a rest across two lanes. Other cars behind the cab slammed on their brakes, their fronts dipping as they came to abrupt halts in a domino effect. Trevor didn't blink as he walked around them, still fuming. He didn't look up at the drivers yelling obscenities and honking their horns at him. Cars were forced to stop everywhere along his path, but he ignored them, walking forward and letting them slide away behind, still moving down the center of the street as more cars screeched to a halt on either side, before they fell back beyond his vision too.  
  
_In the name of love  
What more in the name of love  
In the name of love  
What more in the name of love_  
  
Trevor's fists were clenched at his side. Glaring in front of him, his jaw hard, he finally sped up and turned to walk off the street and onto the sidewalk, heading into office building where Claire and Richard worked.  
  
Richard was sitting at his desk, looking sadly at the response he had gotten from the hospital board. They had agreed to his request for a hearing and for the possible use of 'alternate methods' on Trevor Hale. But for some reason, it didn't make him any happier. Suddenly his door slammed open and Trevor burst into the office like a gale.  
"Why the hell are you doing this!" Trevor yelled.  
Richard rose from his chair, putting the hospital's response down, not needing to ask what had Trevor so upset.  
Richard tried to calm him. "Trevor, it's for the best..."  
Stepping quickly forward, Trevor glared at him angrily. "You're committing me!?"  
Richard's face grew hard at Trevor's loud, confrontational words. He soon matched him measure for measure, not able to stop himself from glaring back, feeling the anger rising in him. Not backing down, Richard's words were cold and hard. "You're not making any progress. I think that other 'options' should be explored in your case. It's not final yet, Trevor. We'll still have to face a hospital board review, but I think that's just a formality that will-"  
"How can you lock me up when I've already told you that I'm no longer Cupid? There's no more delusion to fix! It's over! There's no reason to lock me away!"  
Richard didn't blink, his voice soft and contemptuous. "Do you really think I believe that?"  
"It's the truth! You've cured me, that's what you wanted, isn't it? So why are you doing this! For what possible reason? Why would... Unless..."  
Trevor pulled back, as something finally occurred to him. Trevor's voice was softer. "You know..."  
Richard's eyes were like hard bits of broken glass. "What?"  
Trevor's voice became louder. "Don't give me the coy act, doctor! You know. You... _KNOW_! You know that Claire doesn't love you. And you want to blame me, because you think that I'm the reason!"  
There was contempt simmering in Richard's soft voice. "That's not it, Trevor..."  
"Yes it is." Trevor stepped forward, jamming a finger angrily at Richard over his desk. "Claire doesn't love you and you think I'm the reason. That's it. Well let me tell you a little secret, Mr. College Doctorate. I've got nothing to do with how Claire feels about you. If Claire's not in love with you, it's because of _YOU_, not me!"  
Richard was quiet and seething, not really listening to him anymore. "I'm going to give you the help you need, Trevor. Whether you want it or not."  
Trevor ignored him, his voice just as angry. "You think Claire's in love with me, and that's the real reason you want me committed!"  
"I don't know what you're talking about..."  
"Yes, you do! Admit it, somewhere you got some crazy idea that Claire's in love with me and you want me out of the way!"  
"Trevor, I-"  
"What, don't even have the courage to tell me straight out that's what you're doing? Are you hiding behind your credentials, doctor? Afraid to admit what we both already know is true? Worried someone will see your true motivations? Doesn't make you much of a man. Or much of a person for Claire to love, now does it?"  
Richard was suddenly furious, his words bursting out. "Fine! I'll admit it! I'll admit it, Trevor. I know what I know. What we both know! Claire's in love with you. So it's time that you were out of her life. Haven't you hurt her enough, Trevor?"  
Trevor was incredulous. "Hurt her? You're the one who doesn't give a damn about her! All you want to do is protect your own relationship with Claire by keeping us apart! Because you know that I'll get everyone to see you for the snake you really are!"  
Richard glared at him, but said nothing.   
Trevor looked at the floor, unable to hide his anger, but making a small attempt at being conciliatory. His soft voice was still hard as he pleaded. "Don't do this..."  
"It's done, Trevor."  
Trevor looked up, growing desperate. "Don't bring Claire into this. The one thing I do know, is that she'll never--.... she'll never love me. I know that. She doesn't love me, alright? How can I make that any more clear? You're kidding yourself if you think she does. Deep down, you know perfectly well that there is no reason for me to be committed!"  
Richard slammed the hospital's response form down on his desk as he angrily stepped around it and moved right into Trevor's face. Trevor didn't back up an inch, glaring back. Richard's voice was cold. "Do you think I'm stupid, Trevor? Of course I know you don't need to be committed. I know that better than even you do. But the truth is I wasn't making any progress with you anyway. So this is for your own good regardless...."  
"It's for your good, Richard! No one else's!"  
Richard nodded, trying to stay calm. "You want me to tell the truth? Then why don't you do the same! Let's lay our cards out on the table. Here's the deal. The cold, hard truth. You're right, Trevor. I think that she's in love with you. And it sickens me..."  
Trevor stared back but said nothing.  
Richard's voice was full of scorn and loathing. "How can she love a smug, arrogant little psychotic like you? What do you have to offer her, Trevor? Pain? Humiliation? A future of mental ward visits, outpatient reviews, and psychotic episodes? All the pretty little experimental drugs that they'll force down your throat and years of unproductive psychotherapy? Is that what you think she deserves from the man she loves? When I can give her so much more. More than you'll ever be able to.Ii'm a respected doctor. What are you? You're a bartender, Trevor. A bartender in a nothing bar with a nothing life, who's somehow deluded himself into thinking he's Cupid. Because he's got nothing else that's woth anything. Because he's really just a pathetic human being. What... is she going to introduce you to her friends? Her family? Hey everyone, here's my delusional boyfriend, straight from Olympus. Is she going to marry you, Trevor? Show you off to the world? Her insane husband. What Claire needs... is to be rid of you, Trevor. What Claire needs is to get you out of her system. Just like any other infectious disease. She needs to move on, instead of letting herself fall in love with a hopeless psychotic. So yes, Trevor. It would be good for me. Absolutely. You won't be coming between us anymore. But it would be even better for Claire. Once you're gone, she'll be able to move on. And maybe you'll finally get the help you need..."  
Trevor still stood there silently in front of him, not backing away from Richard, his face inches from his as Trevor's fists hung on either side of his hips. There was still anger burning in Trevor's eyes, but now, maybe there was a glimmer of doubt as well. He blinked as he thought about what Richard had said, wondering if maybe, on some level, Richard was right.  
  
Claire opened the front door of her apartment and stepped in with a tired sigh. She slowly moved past her answering machine, it's small red light blinking quietly as she reached down and pressed a button on it without stopping, moving out of sight.  
Jaclyn's frantic voice suddenly sounded over the answering machine's small speaker, and Claire suddenly stopped where she was, rushing back and listening intently when she heard the panic in Jaclyn's words. Claire's face paled as she listened to Jaclyn's latest message.  
  
_"Trevor was so furious when he heard Richard was trying to have him committed, Claire! I don't know what Trevor's going to do! Claire, he's heading over to Richard's office. You have to stop him before he gets there and does something stupid! Claire, I-"_  
  
Claire looked up as the message cut off, thinking about Trevor. Her scared voice was soft. "Trevor... no. What are you doing?"  
Frantic, she grabbed her car keys and rushed back out of the house, the fear evident in her eyes as she slammed the door shut behind her, heading for Richard's office. The house was empty again once she was gone, and the answering machine's red light still blinked in the silence.  
  
Trevor's voice was almost a shout, still arguing with Richard. "You don't get it! You just don't get it, do you? You can't make Claire love you!"  
Richard glared over at him from where he was pacing on the other side of the office. "Maybe not. Not yet. But once you're out of the way, she'll come around."  
Trevor shook his head in disgust, moving towards the door as if to leave. "Never happen! You go ahead and do your best, Doctor! But I've gotten past those hospital boards before and I'll do it again!"  
Richard rushed angrily over to him and grabbed Trevor's arm, not letting him leave. "Stay away from Claire, Trevor."  
Trevor glared down at Richard's hand for a second before he threw it off his arm with a hard shake of his shoulder. "Or what?"  
Richard suddenly smiled coldly, filled with an unexpected smug look. He stepped confidently away. "I talked with Mary Simmons last week, Trevor. Remember her? Faith? You last saw her at the top of the stairs outside your apartment? Surely you remember her? Blond, fanatical, insane... armed. Got a bit of a... penetrating personality. She's hard to miss..."  
A pit suddenly opened up in Trevor's stomach, not expecting that. He waited, wondering where Richard was going with this.  
Richard looked over at him, his eyes glinting dangerously. His voice was cold and quiet. "Faith followed you around like a lap dog for quite some time, didn't she? She saw a lot of fascinating little details about your average, every day life. Details like... you kissing Claire outside her office. Ring a bell?"  
Trevor's expression fell away, feeling it all fall apart around him.  
Richard stared at him meaningfully. "She was watching it the whole time. Hiding down the hall. Now if something that... scandalous were to get out about our esteemed Claire, well... you know how peers can talk."  
Trevor couldn't believe what he was hearing, his voice low and seething. "You really are a bastard, you know that?"  
Richard paused for a moment, not looking very concerned. "You know, it's funny Trevor. I never would have imagined Claire to be one for doing something like that. Kissing one of her patients. Falling in love with him. It's so unethical. So unlike her. To tell you the truth, I'm not even really sure what Faith claims she saw ever really happened. She is psychotic after all, as I'm sure you can relate to. For all I know, she could be making it all up even now... BEcause believe it or not, she's still obsessed with you. Good thing for youthat for the moment she's locked up and out of arms reach, huh? I don't know, Trevor. Whether it's true or not, there's one thing I am sure of. I'm sure I could get a professional review board to believe her. I could ruin Claire's career. Even the mere implication could do it. It would be... sooo easy, Trevor."  
Trevor's eyes sparkled. "And you were the one who a second ago was so concerned about hurting Claire!"  
"I'm not the one threatening Claire's career, Trevor. You did that all by yourself. After an allegation like that, who knows what a follow up investigation would find between you and Claire. Maybe other indications of how she feels about you? Other less than professional moments? Other friends or co workers she may have told, or who may have suspicions? Other kisses perhaps? Would they find anything else, Trevor?"  
Trevor was silent, obviously furious, but thrown off balance, feeling like he was losing control of the situation.  
Richard stepped closer to him. "But I suppose that all depends on you."  
Trevor's eyes were full of anger as they started to mist over in despair. "Don't you dare do this to her. Don't you dare hurt her this way..."  
Richard smiled. "When I present your case to the review board, you're going to agree with evrything I say. Because you're willing to sacrifice yourself for Claire, aren't you? Don't fight me on this, and I won't have to do anything to Claire. Stay away from her, Trevor. Or... don't. End up in a mental hospital anyway for the rest of you life, with Claire's reputation in shambles. But don't kid yourself. I'll do what I have to do. Make up what I have to, as long as it gets you out of our lives. Even if it costs Claire her career. So walk away... or get locked up. But either way.... I win."  
Anger burned through Trevor's eyes as he listened to the arrogance in Richard's voice. His fingers were stiff as they slowly balled into a fist at his side.  
The door to Richard's office suddenly burst open.  
Trevor's arm swung out and sped around.  
Claire was standing there in the hallway. She screamed at what she saw. "Trevor, don't!"  
Trevor's arm exploded in a wide, unstoppable roundhouse swing that blurred forward, his coat flying as he punched Richard straight in the face and sent him flying backwards.  
Richard stumbled into the far wall behind him with a clatter, collapsing to the floor, his back sliding down against the wall. After he came to a stop he shook his head.  
Breathing heavily, Claire rushed over to Trevor and grabbed him, pulling him back as he took another menacing step towards Richard. "Trevor, stop! Trevor!"  
Trevor glared down at Richard as Claire held him back, his eyes cold and furious.  
Claire pulled him back even more, stepping between the two of them as she held Trevor tightly in her arms. She looked disbelievingly back and forth between the two men, tears welling in her eyes as what just happened started to finally sink in. "Trevor... what have you done..."  
Richard was breathing deeply, his chest heaving. His lip was cracked and bleeding as he rubbed it with the back of his palm, wincing slightly in pain. But as he lay there on the floor, he was... smiling. It didn't upset him to see Trevor standing there in Claire arms. As he gingerly licked the blood off his teeth, his pleased expression was clear. With that one punch, he had already won.  
Claire's voice was fragile and shaky, feeling overwhelmed as she faced Trevor and caressed his cheek tenderly, making him look into her eyes. "Trevor, I-"  
Forgetting Richard, Trevor looked deeply into Claire's face. His expression seemed to be filled with so many things in that moment. Anger, sadness, fear.... loss. It was over. Without a word he turned away from her and left Richard's office.  
Claire took a step to follow him but stopped, feeling helpless and uncertain, her eyes filled with new tears, not knowing what to do.  
Richard was still seated on the floor, his back against the wall. Lifting himself up, he winced again, touching his bleeding lip as he stood. Claire was still standing there, gazing in the direction Trevor had gone. Richard didn't look at her as he spoke.  
"I can have him detained before he sets foot on the sidewalk."  
Claire whirled on him, eyes sparkling and her voice hard and angry. "Don't try idle boasts with me. We both know you don't have that kind of authority. Trevor's not the only one who see's what's really going on here. I see it too. And if you try to have him committed, I'll expose you for abuse of position and have your license removed for professional misconduct. You won't get away with this..."  
Richard looked at her. "Professional misconduct. Ironic, coming from you. Besides... I've already gotten away with this." He couldn't help but smile at her. "You can make whatever claims you want, Claire. But I suspect Trevor will back up any proposal I make to the board. He doesn't really have any other choice..."  
Still glaring at him, Claire blinked in confusion, wondering what he meant. Without another word, she ran out after Trevor, leaving the office far behind.  
Alone in the quiet of his office, Richard suddenly sighed to himself, looking a little more doubtful now, and wondering what it was he had done.  
  
The hallways and offices all bounced and blurred through Claire's tear filled eyes as she quickly ran forward, searching frantically for Trevor. She looked everywhere, trying not to cry outright, her watery gaze searching through every hallway. Where was he? She continued to move quickly down the hallways, ignoring the strange looks the other workers were giving her when they noticed her upset expression, noticed the tears falling on her cheeks.  
Finally Claire saw him, standing at the end of one long hallway with his head bowed down. He was in front of a large window looking out at the cold cityscape of Chicago under a gray, overcast sky. Trevor's left arm was straight out, his palm supporting his weight against the wall, as if the weight of the world were resting on his shoulders and he had lost all hope. Even from here she could tell how broken he seemed.  
Claire blinked, voice calling out softly. "Trevor..?"  
Trevor looked over his shoulder at her sadly, before straightening up and turning away, wiping at his eyes as he put something away in his pocket. Claire rushed forward to him without hesitation, gratefully collapsing into his arms, holding him tightly to her. She pulled him close, not caring anymore who saw them. Trevor closed his eyes and held her tighter, held her like she was holding him, his arms tenderly wrapped around her, holding on to that one moment like no other. Claire felt a tear roll down her cheek as she leaned her face against his. Trevor held her tighter, almost as if it was for the last time.  
"Trevor..." Claire gasped, her fingers lightly grazed his cheek sadly as she looked into his eyes. "What are we going to do? If Richard somehow finds a way to have you committed..."  
Trevor closed his eyes and swallowed, trying to concentrate only on Claire being in his arms, on her there against him, close like he had always wanted her to be, not thinking about the future ahead of them. Finally he opened his eyes and looked deeply into Claire's beautiful brown eyes, eyes that were still filled with tears, and asadness he had caused.  
Claire gazed back at him, not knowing what to say. "Trevor, I-... I don't know what to think."  
His hand touched her face, tenderly grazing her cheek. "I think it's over, Claire..."  
"Trevor, if you leave me, I don't... I don't think I can-... I'm so sorry. I was so stupid before. Fighting what I knew I felt. I've wasted so much time, Trevor..."  
Claire sighed and tearfully rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes, just being there with him. Then she looked up again, unafraid, a decision in her eyes. Slowly, she tilted her head, and her lips tenderly came towards his. This was her choice. She was doing this because she wanted to, on her own, for the first time. The window behind them brightened as the overcast sky parted for a moment, one shining moment, as a single gold ray of sunlight fell onto them, outlining them against the window. And for a moment as her lips came closer, Trevor felt that maybe there was somehow a way that they could-  
But then... his fingers came up and pressed gently against her lips, stopping her. The sunlight faded behind a cloud. Trevor sighed, realizing it was the hardest thing he had ever done, but... he stopped her. Slowly, Claire pulled reluctantly back, looking at him. Trevor pulled himself out of her arms.  
"It's over, Claire. Don't worry about me. Whatever happens... you'll be okay. Remember that. Don't worry. Really. I got it down. I'll handle this. I promise...."  
She didn't know what to say. It all sounded like so much false reassurance to her.  
With one last look, Trevor forced himself to turn and walk away. Claire's hand slipped out of his, their fingers no longer intertwined, her palm hovering in mid air in the absence of his.  
Without a word of explanation Trevor left, his steps echoing down the hallway as he moved further away. Claire watched him, speechless, as he stepped around the corner and out of sight.  
She wrapped her arms around herself and stepped closer to the window, feeling the cold emanating from it. Her silent breath misted the glass, eyes stricken. Alone in the hallway, she finally bowed her head and cried.  
  


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	7. string pg 07

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Claire took a deep breath to calm herself.  
She was standing alone in a small, anteroom, waiting to go in. The quiet room was dimly lit, with no windows or furniture. Claire looked at the closed double doors in front of her, knowing full well what was beyond them, the meeting of the hospital board where Trevor's case was being reviewed. It was quiet in the small space where she was however, and she began to slowly pace back and forth.  
Claire gripped the case notes she was carrying more tightly to her body, trying to quell her nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and grabbed each of the door handles. She swung them both confidently open, stepping into the white, brightly lit room beyond.  
As she silently walked forward, Claire recognized the place instantly. Memories of being there before passed fondly through her mind, remembering the day the board had first assigned Trevor Hale to her reluctant supervision. The same wide windows lined the wall to the right, glowing with the diffuse white light of the cold, overcast sky outside, a sky that had been threatening snow for days. It's soft, ambient glow bathed the unexpected and large crowd of people who were filling the seats. Looking to the front of the room, she saw the same review board that had released him before, now hearing testimony to put Trevor back into the hospital. They were seated at a long bench facing everyone else, like judges in a court room. Like Trevor was on trial here. Claire couldn't help but smile when she saw the wooden inscription over the 'judges' heads, right where it had always been.  
  
AND LOVE SHALL MAKE THE EARTH TREMOR  
AS IT IS REBORN IN A STORM OF FIRE AND HAIL  
  
Claire looked at the words at the end of either line, one above the other, 'TREMOR' and 'HAIL', her face brightening as she remembered how Trevor had decided on his new name. At a small desk in front of the audience chairs, Trevor sat at Richard's side, both looking at the man standing at the podium in front of the room as he addressed the review board. Trevor didn't turn around as Claire entered.  
Everyone had their attention on the man who was speaking, listening quietly. Spectators and interested parties, most from the hospital itself, filled the seats at the back of the room, a rarity for hearings such as this. Claire recognized several people seated there. Jaclyn was seated near the aisle. Dr. Greeley was listening intently from the back, lost in his own thoughts. Claire paused, suddenly worried when she saw Glenda sitting along the back wall, the woman who had tried to prove allegations of a relationship between her and Trevor. What was she doing there? Had Richard called her to testify?  
Having heard her approach, Jaclyn turned around, giving Claire a nervous smile as she scooted over to give her a seat. With one last worried look over at Glenda, wondering what she was doing there, Claire moved over and joined Jaclyn. Looking to Jaclyn's other side, she saw Dr. Hazerman sitting there too, making Claire smile that he had come. The thought made her look up, eyes moving slowly across the room, suddenly struck at just how many people had come to care about what happened to this run of the mill delusional out-patient named Trevor Hale. He had made so many friends since he had been there. That said a lot about him.  
Dr. Frechette was the man at the podium, continuing his presentation in his calm, aloof voice, testifying to his own experiences with Trevor.  
"During the short time that I was allowed to treat the subject, against my better judgment I dutifully followed the conventional forms of therapy that Doctors Allen and Dehnt subsequently continued with. I even resorted to regression hypnosis in hopes of gaining some insight into the trauma that Mr. Hale is hiding, searching for the core of his delusion. Unfortunately I made no progress... just like Doctors Allen and Dehnt, I might add, who also failed to achieve any tangible results. Trevor Hale has always show a complete disregard for conventional therapeutic methods. And he has exhibited an unprecedented lack of respect which verges on contempt for the professionals who administer them. Trevor has had his time. He's been given his chance. He's been offered every opportunity to respond to conventional therapy and it hasn't worked. How long are we supposed to wait? What period of time must pass before this review board admits the failure of those methods? I believe that time has come. Therefore, I am here to support Dr. Dehnt's assessment that Mr. Hale be remanded to a psychiatric facility for immediate committal. It's time for a more radical approach to help this patient. Nothing else has shown any tangible results. There has been no progress. In my professional opinion, committal to a secure facility where Mr. Hale can be observed, monitored, and treated around the clock is our best option. And perhaps... the potential use of some of the experimental drugs of which I've been holding clinical trials..."  
Dr. Frechette seemed to instantly go on the defensive as he continued. "Now here me out. I have been successful with these drugs in the past, which I don't believe this board has ever fully considered. And I believe they will be immediately beneficial to the treatment of this-"  
A woman at the center of the review board leaned wearily forward past the other members to either side of her, trying not to roll her eyes at yet the latest pharmaceutical push from Dr. Frechette. It was his obvious answer to everything, and she had heard it too many times before.  
"Thank you, Dr. Frechette. That will be all..."  
"But if you would just review my proposal-"  
"Thank you, Dr. Frechette." The woman tried to smile politely, but she didn't try that hard.  
With one last disapproving look at the board, Dr. Frechette turned away from the podium and walked past the desk where Dr. Dehnt and Trevor were sitting, heading for the benches at the back of the room and back to his seat. Richard looked up as he passed, but his expression remained neutral, keeping his thoughts to himself. Beside him, Trevor sat there silently, looking sullen as he gazed at the empty space before him. He didn't move, didn't react. It was as if all of the fight had left him.  
The review board all simultaneously re-arranged the papers before them, searching their notes for the next scheduled speaker in the hearing.  
"The members of this board call the next expert, one Dr. Osgood Hazerman, who has requested to speak on Trevor's behalf."  
From where she was seated, Claire lifted her head slightly, a little surprised when she heard that name. Looking over, she watched as Dr. Hazerman rose out of his seat, mumbling some indecipherable words of encouragement to Jaclyn as he patted her knee and started to slowly squeeze past. Jaclyn smiled at him, watching as the old man moved past Claire and stepped out into the aisle.  
Slowly... very slowly, he made his way towards the front of the room where the podium was. It quickly became evident that it would take a little time for Dr. Hazerman to get there. Several members of the review board waited patiently for him, familiar with Dr. Hazerman's pace of life, so to speak. As the aging doctor made his way forward, nearly past the audience seats now, Claire leaned over to Jaclyn and whispered a question into her ear.  
"Osgood?"  
Jaclyn smiled, just as surprised. "First I've heard of it. He's never mentioned it before."  
"What did he say to you when he got up?" Claire asked.  
"That he was up late last night working on his statement..."  
Both women turned and watched as Dr. Osgood Hazerman finally inched his way closer to the desk where Trevor and Richard were sitting. There was already the sound of some fidgeting in the crowd behind him as the aging doctor finally reached the podium. He began to reach for his notes, when he absently remembered that he had forgotten to bring them. Brushing that lapse aside, he coughed and looked up at the review board before him, placing his hands on the empty podium, one small, frail old man in front of that large imposing dais.  
"This could take awhile..." Jaclyn sighed.  
The review board seemed to agree, leaning back in their chairs for what they expected would be a long, slow, incoherent ramble.  
Dr. Hazerman straightened up and spoke. "Esteemed members of the review board. I thank you for hearing my comments and opinions today regarding this important hospital matter."  
Everyone in the room pulled up slightly in shock. Dr. Hazerman spoke in a clear, resonant voice that was completely unlike his usual mumbling speech patterns. Claire and Jaclyn's lips dropped a bit as they listened. His concise, polished words carried clearly throughout the surprised room. Intrigued, the review board began to lean forward again.  
"Ladies and gentlemen. May I start by saying that it has been my complete privilege and honor to be associated with Trevor Hale, a fine individual that I was introduced to through his friendship with Jaclyn, my assistant. I have come to know Trevor fairly well through his visits to my office, and I believe I have developed some insight into his condition that may be useful, both professionally and personally, to these proceedings. I am therefore pleased to be given the opportunity to address you today on his behalf. My first instance of meeting Mr. Hale was when..."  
Claire began to tune him out, smiling, as she thought about all the obvious effort Dr. Hazerman had made practicing his speech, all for Trevor. Not because he was his doctor, but because he was his friend. She leaned back and listened as Dr. Hazerman went into his presentation about his informal conversations with Trevor, giving his assessment of Trevor's sanity and real world viability. Claire smiled quietly to herself, looking down when she saw what he was trying to do, pleased.  
  
Sometime later in the hearing, Dr. Hazerman began to wrap up his remarks. "In conclusion, I must say that Mr. Hale is a warm and giving person. Many people in this room would support me on that count, including several members of this very board. He's occasionally obsessed perhaps with his perceived work, but I'm sure that's no different than any of us. Especially on those occasions when we've spent too many hours at the office and not enough time at home with our families and loved ones. Trevor should not be arbitrarily subjected to every option in the therapeutic panacea, simply because it hasn't been tried yet. We need to look at the individual for that determination. And in looking, there is only one viable conclusion. Trevor Hale is not insane, nor is he dangerous. His self-perceptual problems are just that. Perceptual. And he does not need to be committed. I therefore strongly voice my objection to Dr. Dehnt's rather rash proposal. Perhaps because I can understand how Dr. Dehnt himself, like Trevor, could be considered a work in progress. With good intentions perhaps... but who hasn't been here that long, and still has much to learn. They are both young, and we should give them both the opportunity to do just that... in their own way. I thank you for your time..."  
The woman who was heading the board leaned forward again, still a little shocked at the unexpected clarity of the doctor's words. "Umm... Thank you, Dr. Hazerman..."  
Dr. Hazerman nodded and turned away from the podium, slowly inching his way back to the benches. There was a slight stir in the crowd, as they thought over the aging doctor's words. At the desk at the front of the room, Richard looked a little annoyed at Dr. Hazerman's light criticism of his lack of experience.  
After about a minute, Dr. Hazerman finally made it back to his seat. Once he was seated beside Jaclyn again, he leaned closer to her, mumbling something incomprehensible, but with a question obvious in his eyes.  
"You did fine..." Jaclyn laughed softly, as she emphasized the last word. "_...OSGOOD_."  
From his seat at the desk near the front of the room, Trevor turned to look back at Dr. Hazerman, giving him a thumbs up and a small smile. And then his eyes caught Claire's. They looked at each other for a long time across the room, seeing much in the other's eyes. There was obvious feeling in Trevor's face as he drank in the sight of her. And a sadness as well, as if he had already accepted his doom. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him it would be ok, but there was concern on her face. Because deep down, she didn't know if that was true. Trevor said nothing, and she understood exactly what he was feeling, knowing the same longing was probably evident in her eyes too. He finally looked away without saying a word, turning in his chair.  
The members of the review board had finished making their notes, now moving on to the next sheet in the proceedings as they all looked up. The woman spoke again.   
"And next, a statement from Mr. Hale's previous therapist, Dr. Claire Allen."  
Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Claire stood up beside Jaclyn, who looked up at her and whispered softly, squeezing her arm.  
"Good luck, Claire..."  
Resolute, Claire looked at the board before her, and confidently walked forward.  
  
The whole room waited quietly.  
Claire had been standing there motionless before the podium for some time. Everyone was hushed as they waited to hear her. Even though she wasn't Trevor's current therapist, Claire still had treated him the longest, and she was the one who most of the people in that room believed knew him the best. She was as close to an expert as they had on Trevor. And despite Dr. Dehnt's earlier hints about some kind of close relationship with Trevor potentially clouding her judgment, they were all waiting to hear what she would say.  
Claire swallowed, looking into the eyes of the waiting review board, searching for the words to say. Her eyes were sad, wondering how the world had come to this point.  
"Umm, thank you for... for hearing me today. I would like to add my professional observation to these proceedings, and respond to some of the veiled allegations Dr. Dehnt has made about my objectivity on this matter, and my relationship with Trevor Hale..."  
Claire paused again. The entire room waited, watching her at the podium. There was a thoughtful expression etched on her face in the cold white light from the windows to her side. Her brown eyes finally looked up, and she allowed herself to speak from her heart.  
"Although I no longer serve as Trevor Hale's therapist, no one else in this hospital or this city has as much experience with him as I do. He was my patient for a long time. And I... I grew to know him pretty well. As you may or may not know, I have been involved in a romantic relationship with Dr. Dehnt. A relationship which Trevor Hale himself precipitated himself by the way, which Dr. Dehnt failed to mention earlier in listing all of the so called... 'harmful' acts Trevor has committed. A relationship which has now ended..."  
At the desk behind her, Richard sadly lowered his eyes but said nothing.  
Claire continued. "It is this failed relationship that I believe has led Dr. Dehnt to come to the unfounded conclusions about Trevor that have brought us all here today. I believe Dr. Dehnt precipitated this proposal due to some perceived slight or sense of romantic rivalry from Trevor, exacerbated by Richard's own lack of progress in Trevor's treatment. It's Richard's jealousy that has brought us all here today. Resulting in an unethical abuse of power, and a blatantly unprofessional display of misconduct. Dr. Dehnt is behaving in a vindictive and spiteful manner in dealing with Trevor's case, solely because he feels threatened by my past with Trevor..."  
The crowd murmured softly at the accusations. Claire's eyes were hard, looking down at the podium, feeling angry that they were even forced to be there. She sighed, looking back up at the now intrigued review board and began to present her argument.  
  
It was sometime later in Claire's remarks when a man on the review board leaned forward with a question, a concerned look in his eyes at what Claire was saying.  
"Dr. Allen, these are some very serious allegations that you are making here today against Dr. Dehnt. That he's putting his own personal interests ahead of his patient. That he want's Trevor out of the way because he feels he threatens your relationship with him. Do you see no validity in Dr. Dehnt's stated motive? That Mr. Hale has made no progress in conquering his delusion?"  
Claire took a breath. "Trevor has shown progress. Just recently, he even recounted his Cupid persona and-"  
"Which Dr. Dehnt stated he believes to be a false renunciation," the man interrupted. "Dr. Dehnt feels the delusion is still there, hidden and entrenched."  
Claire shook her head. "That doesn't mean he hasn't made progress. A renunciation, even a false one, could be deemed a first step. And Trevor is in no way a threat to himself or any-"  
"Did not Mr. Hale physically assault Dr. Dehnt?"  
"Yes, but-"  
"Striking him when they were in his office, I believe..."  
Claire tried to sound reasonable. "Trevor... overreacted. I acknowledge that. But Trevor was understandably upset that Dr. Dehnt was attempting to have him committed even after he had renounced his Cupid-"  
"But Mr. Hale did punch him. Despite the circumstances, doesn't that speak to Mr. Hale's ability to function in everyday society?"  
Claire argued the point more strongly. "If we locked up every single person who's ever wanted to punch someone, then the streets would be empty! We'd all be behind bars by now. The circumstances that Trevor found himself in could in no way be even remotely considered ordinary, and-"  
"Mr. Hale striking his therapist is not the only evidence, Mrs. Allen. Dr. Dehnt has provided various instances where Trevor's personal goals have been detrimental to others. Mr. Hale's interactions with another of Dr. Dehnt's patients for instance, umm, one..." the man searched through his notes for the name. "... Mary Simmons. Dr. Dehnt contends Trevor helped precipitate her breakdown. That his rejection of her led to her violent outbreak where by Trevor was shot. Do you deny that claim?"  
Claire's voice was angry. "That's like blaming the victim for the crime!"  
The man was more forceful. "MY point... Dr. Allen, is that perhaps this review board made a mistake in it's original judgment. Perhaps we were wrong when we released Trevor Hale in the first place..."  
Claire looked at him, expression full of disbelief that he would even suggest that. "I was a doctor on staff here for many years. I have long been held in high regard by this hospital. Or so I thought... And I'm telling you, that Trevor isn't a threat. He has shown progress, he's held a job, he's made friends... He doesn't need to be committed."  
"Well that's what we're here to find out, isn't it?" The man's voice softened as he continued. "I know you have strong personal feelings about the patient, Mrs. Allen. And we do take your previous treatment and supervision of Mr. Hale into account. But this review board has always tended to defer to the judgment of the practicing doctor. The therapist who is involved on a daily basis in the patient's treatment and oversight. As of today, that person is Dr. Dehnt. And he has made his assertion based on tangible incidents. All you have offered us here today are vague suspicions as to Dr. Dehnt's true motives. His jealousy of you and Trevor. Do you have any proof to confirm your allegations?"  
Claire stuttered, shaking her head. "I--I know that I don't have any tangible proof, but I-"  
"Then I suppose the question is... is there any validity to the fears you ascribe to Dr. Dehnt. So I'll ask you straight out, Mrs. Allen." The man paused, feeling uncomfortable. But finally he asked the question. "Are you in love with Trevor Hale?"  
There was a deep silence in the room as everyone listened. At her seat, Jaclyn looked worried, her lips thinning into a hard line.  
Claire stood there, speechless for a moment, uncertain. She sighed deeply in the quiet. Finally she spoke in a soft voice, pain hidden in her voice at what she had to say. "No... I'm not."  
"So why would Dr. Dehnt fear that?" The man looked at Claire for a moment, waiting for her to answer.   
Claire looked at him. "Maybe it's easier to blame our own failings on someone else, I don't know. Other than that, you would have to ask him..."  
"And yet you maintain that Mr. Hale doesn't need the remedy Dr. Dehnt is seeking. Do you believe that Trevor has truly stopped believing that he is Cupid?"  
"I--I have not really had a chance to evaluate the validity of-"  
"Perhaps more importantly," the man smiled slightly, amused that he even had to ask. "Do you personally believe he's Cupid, Dr. Allen?"  
Another pause in the room. Behind where she stood, Trevor looked up at her from his desk, curious. Several people in the seats behind him shifted slightly, watching. Claire looked at the review board in front of her. She let out a soft, quick exhalation of air, looking down with a small, private smile.  
"It always comes back to that, doesn't it? Black and white. Yes or no. Is he Cupid or isn't he..."  
Claire seemed thoughtful when she looked back up at the review board. "Crazy part is... it's not as easy a question as it sounds..."  
The man who was questioning her pulled back, waiting for her to continue. The room was quiet for several seconds as Claire thought about it.  
Her voice took on an air of nostalgia as she spoke, her words soft and quiet, eyes staring ahead in her memories. "When all of us were kids, when we were all young... we never had any trouble believing. Blindly accepting all sort of wonderful, improbable, un-provable things. Without explanation. Without question. Santa Claus. The tooth fairy. White picket fences. Someone for everyone and happily ever after... Fairy tales, basically. We didn't ask how they could be real, we just accepted them. Wanting to believe because... because we wanted to believe in the simple wonder of possibility. That childish sense of amazement not in what's real, but what _could_ be real... if we just believed. But then at some point... we grow up. And somehow we stop believing in anything. Sometimes I wonder what we've lost. That sense of trust... in how truly magical the world around us really is."  
She looked back at the review board. "The real issue before us, is not whether Trevor Hale is truly Cupid. It's whether he should be allowed to believe he is. And if we should be allowed to believe it as well. I don't know what Trevor is. I don't know why he claims to be what he claims to be. But maybe it's not black and white. Maybe Trevor's right and the rest of us are wrong. And we're the ones who really have a problem here... Because we've lost that part of ourselves that used to believe. Because we won't even let ourselves imagine anymore..."  
Claire seemed distracted, looking away, as if just coming to that realization herself. Finally she looked up at the review board, coming out of her reverie and speaking more professionally. "Trevor's only crime, is that he wants to be something more. More than just another face in the crowd drudging drearily off to work. He hasn't thrown away that sense of wonder. Because he wants to believe again... not necessarily in Cupid, but in true love. And to be the one to bring that to people. That outlook on life is not a threat to himself or to anyone. Or a reason to lock him away. Do I believe Trevor still needs help? Yes... So that maybe someday he'll come to realize that he doesn't need to be Cupid to do all those things. He never did. What Trevor believes, what he's trying to share with us, is not a liability. It's a gift. A gift I think we should gratefully accept... even as we try to help him."  
Claire's words trailed off as her sad eyes looked hopefully up at the review board. Everyone in the room was thinking about what she had said, the room quiet around her. Slowly, the woman heading the review board leaned forward, clearly having no further questions.  
"Thank you, Dr. Allen..."  
Claire nodded, her eyes welling up slightly, wondering if it was enough. Finally she gathered her files off the podium and turned around. Looking at Trevor, she wiped away a worried tear from her eye as discreetly as possible. Smiling, Trevor tried to comfort her as he looked into her face, tried to tell her that no matter what happened, it would be ok. Claire held his gaze for a moment longer, a warmth passing through her, seeing him so close, realizing how much she missed him. She wanted so much to hold him... Instead she found what comfort she could in the gentle pools of his eyes, before looking away, hoping no one had noticed. Slowly she stepped past him, her form outlined against the bright white glare of the windows, footsteps hitting crisply on the floor of the silent room as she walked through the crowd and back to her seat.  
The review board had finished hearing all their scheduled witnesses, so their was a feel of anticipation in the air. The board's attention returned to Richard, sitting at the desk beside Trevor.  
"Dr. Dehnt... Do you have any further comments too add beyond your original statement before we render our decision?"  
Richard rose from his chair, straightening his suit as he did so. "Yes I do... Thank you. As I stated before, by reviewing Trevor's case history, you will note how increasingly antagonistic he grew towards me with every session. Mrs. Allen's claims that I'm reacting to our breakup are totally unfounded. Since it should be obvious to anyone who reads the case record that I made note of my suspicions of Trevor having feelings for Dr. Allen long before my own relationship with her ended. As for Mrs. Simmons, or 'Faith' as she calls herself, she was looking for the god of love, and Trevor heedlessly provided that for her without any regard for her condition. Simply to secure himself yet another bead to get closer to home. Because he didn't care about the consequences. Because her mental welfare obviously wasn't important to him. The harm to her and Mr. Hale is obvious. And finally, may I point out that Trevor has falsely renounced his Cupid persona before. When he was before this very board for the first time, for instance. And also when he told Faith he was no longer Cupid because he no longer needed her, thus precipitating her breakdown. How many times are we going to let him cry wolf? How much more damage must be done before we take action? I believe these facts are clear and incontrovertible. Still, I can understand how..." Richard lowered his eyes. "... how Dr. Allen has developed feelings for her former patient. She's obviously fond of him and does not consider him a threat. But the facts say otherwise. And that is a professional reaction, not an emotional one..." Richard spoke pointedly, "... as we've seen others make here today."  
Claire's jaw hardened, but she said nothing.  
Richard continued. "Our own personal feelings are really not what's at issue here. What is important is the best interests of the patient. So in conclusion let me say this... The one thing we have failed to do... the one thing none of us has done, is to ask the person who is most directly involved in this matter what he believes should happen next. What does he think should be done in regards to his own treatment? I'm confident that Trevor will support my recommendations. He'll agree with me, that committal is in his own best interests. That's why I call Trevor Hale to speak before you..."  
A little surprised, everyone in the room looked over at Trevor, still sitting in his chair, staring blankly ahead, not appearing to notice.  
The woman heading the review board tried to get his attention. "Mr. Hale...?"  
Trevor already seemed defeated when he finally looked up. There was no hope on his face. Slowly he rose to his feet, moving absently over to the podium in a daze as everyone watched. Richard sat down, confident in what Trevor was going to say.  
Trevor quietly stood there at the podium, in front of the review board that was deciding his fate, like a lamb led to the slaughter. His face seemed empty as he looked at them, and he didn't speak.  
The board members shifted in their seats, a little impatient. The woman prodded Trevor again. "Mr. Hale, you've been strangely quiet during these proceedings. We have heard nothing from _you_ on what you think should be done. Is there anything you would like to say?"  
Trevor still looked at them, not saying a word, his face bleak. Several members of the board exchanged confused looks, wondering if he had heard the question. Finally, his expression not changing, Trevor reached calmly into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a miniature tape recorder.  
Claire blinked when she saw it, realizing it wa the object she had seen Trevor putting away when she had chased him down the hallway after he had hit Richard.  
Trevor reached forward and pushed play.  
The sound of two voices suddenly came out of the small tape recorder. Two male voices. Arguing. Everyone in the room listened to what was being said, the words coming over the sounds of the people in the recording moving around.  
  
_Why the hell are you doing this?  
  
Trevor, it's for the best...  
  
You're committing me!?  
  
You're not making any progress. I think that-_  
  
Claire's eyebrows lifted, realizing it was Trevor and Richard arguing inside his office. There was a slight stir in the room as everyone began to recognize the voices and the argument on the tape, wondering what it was.  
Richard's face went blank for a second as he sat at the desk beside Trevor, not believing what he was hearing. Finally he stood up, his face angry as he faced the board. "Wait a second... Wait. You can't just bring in a random recording into a review board hearing! It has no relevance here. trevor, I don't know what you're doing, but that's enough. I think we should-"  
The man who had been questioning Claire so harshly earlier, now slowly raised a silent hand, cutting off Richard without a word. He shifted his attention back to Trevor. "Dr. Dehnt is right. Exactly what is this recording? And what is it's relevance to this hearing?"  
Trevor smiled. "The tangible proof you were looking for. How would anyone believe me otherwise? An outpatient arguing against the man treating him? Who has a doctorate to hide behind? This is the proof of what Claire was saying all along. That Dr. Dehnt is doing this because he thinks I'm in the way of their relationship."  
Richard was furious. "That is ridiculous! You can't accept that tape into this hearing. Therapy sessions are strictly confidential between the doctor and the patient."  
Trevor glared back at Richard, looking a little smug. "I'm the patient, and the one bringing this forward. Confidentiality doesn't apply."  
Richard was angry. "It was illegally recorded, and that's not admissible in any-"  
The man on the review board smiled. "This isn't a court of law, Dr. Dehnt. We've used tapes from therapy sessions many times before during patient reviews."  
Richard seemed flustered. "But I haven't even had a chance to-"  
"Continue, Mr. Hale." The man said with finality.  
Obviously incensed, Richard straightened his suit and sat back down. Trevor tried his best not to smile as he turned around and pushed play again.  
  
_You think Claire's in love with me, and that's the real reason your committing me!  
  
I don't know what you're talking about, Trevor._  
  
Claire blinked, not believing what she was hearing. There was anger in Trevor's words of course, but as she listened to those disembodied voices argue back and forth, it quickly became evident how fast the anger was building up in Richard's voice too. Soon it became hard to tell who was more out of control, the patient or the doctor. on the tape, Richard's anger finally erupted.  
  
_Fine! I'll admit it, Trevor! I know what I know. What we both know! Claire's in love with you. So it's time you were out of her life. Haven't you hurt her enough?_  
  
Several members of the review board pulled back at that statement, surprised it had come from Dr. Dehnt. They looked over at him, unsettled by his seething words.  
His face still angry, Richard stood again and tried to explain. "It's not like that... Look, I can explain. I-..." His voice drifted off, trying to stay calm, not certain what to say. The tape was still playing, and no one was really listening to him anyway.  
Trevor was now speaking on the tape, his voice softer, pleading.  
  
_She'll never love me. I know that. She doesn't love me, alright? How can I make that any more clear?_  
  
Claire looked sadly over at Trevor, wondering if he really felt that way. Trevor's eyes were looking down as he stood at the podium. The tape continued, Trevor still speaking.  
  
_Deep down, you know perfectly well that there is no reason for me to be committed.  
  
Do you think I'm stupid, Trevor? Of course I know you don't need to be committed. I know that better than you do..._  
  
Concerned looks passed between the members of the review board. The woman who headed the review leaned forward, giving Richard a less than friendly stare.  
"Dr. Dehnt, can you explain this?"  
Trevor quickly stopped the tape, and the room went silent.  
Unsettled, Richard faced her. "Those statements are taken completely out of context. It's only something that was said in the heat of the moment. Trevor obviously set me up and manipulated me into a momentary lapse of judgment. Trevor's wrong, and-"  
Trevor smiled, and pushed play again. It was Richard's voice.  
  
_You're right, Trevor. I think she's in love with you. And it sickens me. How can she love a smug, arrogant, little psychotic like you?_  
  
Pleased, Trevor pushed stop again.  
The woman on the review board looked at Richard more sternly. "Dr. Dehnt? That doesn't sound very therapeutic to me..."  
"It's not as bad as that. It was one isolated-"  
Enjoying himself, Trevor smiled and pushed play on the tape again.  
  
_Once you're out of the way, she'll come around...._  
  
Claire turned her head and glared coldly at Richard when she heard that.  
"That's enough!" Richard's voice was louder. "I lost my temper, ok? I said some things that I regret-"  
Trevor broke in, looking at him playfully. "Losing your temper. Tell me, doctor. Is that a professional reaction or an emotional one?"  
Richard ignored him, speaking to the board. "I can corroborate a relationship between Trevor and Claire. I have evidence. Mary Simmons will testify to a kiss she saw happen between them and-"  
As if anticipating, Trevor was already forwarding the tape and pushing play, cutting into Richard's words with his own taped voice.  
  
_I'm not even really sure what Faith claims she saw ever happened..._  
  
Richard sputtered. "That's not-"  
Trevor happily pushed play again, interrupting. Richard's voice again.  
  
_She could be making it all up..._  
  
Richard shook his head, almost starting to sound desperate. "Just because I haven't yet established the validity of Faith's statements, doesn't mean that-"  
Another forward and play from Trevor.  
  
_Whether it's true or not, I'm sure I could get a professional review board to believe her..._  
  
"Enough, Trevor!" Richard glared at the board. "None of this proves that I was lying about my assertion. I know that Trevor and Claire are-"  
Trevor was almost humming, really enjoying himself. He pushed forward on the tape for a specific length, like he had practiced for some time getting around to the segments he wanted. It was Richard's voice again.  
  
_Stay away from her, Trevor. Or... don't. End up in a mental hospital for the rest of your life with Claire's reputation in shambles. But don't kid yourself. I'll do what I have to do. Make up what I have to as long as it gets you out of our lives. Even if it costs Claire her career. So walk away... or get locked up. But either way... I win."_  
  
Trevor stopped the playback.  
One of the men on the review board grunted, looking at Trevor, obviously displeased with what he was hearing. "I assume... Mr. Hale, this is the point where you punched him?"  
Trevor smiled. "How'd you know?"  
Glaring even more angrily at Richard, the woman who headed the board sighed in disgust. "Thank you, Mr. Hale. I believe we've heard enough."  
Trevor nodded, waiting for whatever was next.  
"Look," Richard said softly. "I can explain. I-"  
The woman ignored him. "Mr. Hale. Can we see that tape please?"  
Playfully, Trevor pretended to look around, as if searching for who she was talking to, before he pointed to himself in surprise. With a confident smile, he walked out from behind the podium, moving closer to the review board as he casually tossed the entire tape recorder towards her. "Here you go, cutie..."  
A little surprised, the woman dropped her pen to catch the tape player, startled for a moment, before recovering and setting it down.  
As Trevor walked back, Richard was almost speechless. "But, but... Trevor attacked me in my office. He punched me!"  
The woman was already writing something down, her eyes lowered as she spoke to herself. "apparently not hard enough..."  
Richard stood there, stunned that they weren't listening to him. Not a single member of the board.  
"That will be all, Mr. Hale." The woman dismissed him.  
Still playing around, Trevor took a slow, overly cautious step away from the podium, before committing to it fully and going back to the desk where Richard was standing. He gave Richard a friendly pat on the back as he passed behind him and took his chair, happily sitting down. He acted like nothing was wrong, smiling as he spoke to himself. "Wow... that wasn't so bad. Went well..."  
Richard was still blinking as he stood there, trying to think of what to say next, trying not to give Trevor an angry glare. His voice was cold when he spoke again.  
"Trevor and Claire had an extra curricular relationship. I know it. Mary Simmons saw it. She'll confirm what I'm saying...."  
The woman heading the board didn't even look at him, writing something down as she spoke. "The tape would seem to indicate otherwise. Believe me, Dr. Dehnt. It would be best if you just stopped right now. You'll be lucky if you don't end up facing suspension, censure, and removal of your license over conduct like this..."  
The entire board was writing something into their reports, discussing quietly amongst themselves. Then as a whole, they looked up.  
"We've come to our decision..."  
The room was quiet, waiting.  
"It is the opinion of this board that the question of Trevor Hale's committal to a psychiatric facility... be put on hold for the time being. Until we look into these allegations of misconduct against Dr. Dehnt. We therefore assign Trevor a new therapist for further evaluation, as soon as possible. While this board does still have some serious concerns as to what the future course of Trevor Hale's treatment should be, we feel we must investigate this other matter first before we can honestly judge Dr. Dehnt's proposal. We will be taking Dr. Allen's testimony and Mr. Hale's tape into consideration while we review Dr. Dehnt's actions. And I must say, Dr. Dehnt, that I am deeply disturbed by what I've heard here today. That will be all..."  
Everyone rose from their chairs throughout the room, talking at once, trying to sort through all that had just happened. In front of them, the board rose as one and began gathering their things with a few disapproving looks in Richard's direction as they left the room.  
Blinking, Claire was still sitting in her chair, smiling, stunned at what Trevor had done.  
Jaclyn looked at her, smiling too. "It's over?"  
Claire laughed. "For now..."  
Richard was putting his things away into a briefcase, fuming silently to himself. Snapping it shut, he turned to leave without saying a word. Until Trevor called out to him.  
"Excuse me... Rich?"  
Richard stopped in mid step, before he slowly turned and glared at him.  
"I was just wondering..." Trevor smiled pleasantly at him. "How's the lip?"  
Richard's eyes were hard. "This isn't over Trevor."  
Trevor's face broke into what was the first genuine smile he had felt in a long time. "Yes it is..."  
Glaring at Trevor for a long moment, Richard finally turned and walked away, moving towards the back of the room. Trevor seemed pleased as he watched Richard leave. He looked over at Claire and Jaclyn walking up to him as the room started to empty behind them.  
Claire still had a look of wonder on her face. "Trevor... that tape. How did--...?"  
He smiled at her. "I had some help. A co conspirator. A while back I realized that sometimes it's better to turn enemies into friends. Especially when all they really need is love..."  
He nodded towards the back of the room, and Jaclyn and Claire turned to look. Glenda was sitting there, smiling at Trevor. She waved happily at him. A young hospital intern was sitting beside her. Glenda reached out and lovingly took his hand into hers.  
Claire couldn't believe it. "Glenda? Glenda helped you? The woman I had fired for breaking into my office trying to prove we were sleeping together?"  
"Yeah. She gave me the tape recorder. She's into all that spying stuff, if you remember...."  
Claire was sputtering. "But, but... but why would she-..."  
"After that little restaurant incident on our double date with Jaclyn and Champ, I thought I should get her on our side. I hooked her up last summer. So sue me. Wait... on second thought I take that back. Someone around here might get some ideas..."  
"And that's all it took?" Claire watched as Glenda rose and left with her beau, walking out of the room contently, hand in hand.  
"That's all it took..."  
Claire turned around and looked at him, amazed. "But if you had that tape all along Trevor, why all the doom and gloom during the hearing. You looked like you had already given up."  
He seemed pleased. "I couldn't let Richard get suspicious and stop me before I got up there. Other than that, I was just having some fun messing with Richard's head. Only fair, right?"  
Claire nodded, appreciating the sentiment. Something occurred to her, and she looked more subdued. After a moment she lowered her eyes. "Trevor... what I said before, about not-"  
Trevor inhaled, looking uncomfortable, ignoring her. "Look, I gotta go. The walls have ears. And they're bored as hell. I'll..." His eyes were soft as he looked at her. "I'll see you later, Claire."  
Saying nothing more, he headed for the back of the room. He was stopped for a moment, congratulated by a few friends who hadn't left yet. But then he walked out, not looking back.  
Claire watched him leave, and she finally let out a relieved breath, looking around at the quickly emptying room. Jaclyn came up to her. "So it's really over..."  
Claire smiled, watching Trevor move out of sight. "For the moment, anyway..."  
Jaclyn looked hopeful. "Claire... you do realize that now there's nothing really keeping you and Trevor apart... You're not with Frank. He's not with anyone... And you're not even his doctor anymore..."  
Claire looked a little worried. "Trevor did punch his therapist. The review board won't forget that. Whoever Trevor's new doctor is will have to decide if he should be committed..."  
"But that doesn't mean you can't be with him, Claire. I have hope..." she smiled when Claire looked over, not understanding. Jaclyn continued. "... that maybe you'll start to believe in happily ever after again..."  
Touched, Claire leaned forward to hug her, grateful for the sentiment, but obviously not quite as certain of that yet. After a few moments, Jaclyn pulled back, and Claire smiled at her. "I'll see you tonight, Jaclyn. Maybe we can all celebrate..."  
"Sure. Bye, Claire."  
Claire watched Jaclyn leave, and before she knew it, Dr. Greeley was standing right there behind her. Claire jumped a little, trying to calm herself, wondering how much he had heard.  
"Dr. Greeley, I didn't see you there..."  
He gave her a sympathetic smile. "I can see it in your eyes, Claire."  
"See what?"  
He looked at the empty bench where the review board had been seated. "That all this is just put on hold. Until he gets an assessment from his new therapist. And I think you know..." Dr. Greeley didn't sound very confident, "... that at some point Trevor's going to have to face this room again..."  
"I know..." Claire looked sadly at those empty seats. "But whenever that happens... there will always be someone here to defend him..."  
"I bet there will be..." Greeley chuckled softly as he turned to look at her. "The hospital misses you, Claire."  
"Thank you." She smiled at him.  
Dr. Greeley nodded, pulling on the overcoat he had been carrying over his arm, and leaving the room.  
Claire was alone in that quiet space, looking up at the podium. Looking at the inscription on the wall.  
"And love shall make the earth tremor..." she said softly, smiling.  
Finally Claire sighed, not certain what the future would bring. But for the moment, she allowed herself a little bit of hope. Pleased, she whispered softly to herself. "Yes..."  
Claire finally turned and walked away, leaving the now empty room behind.  
  


------


	8. string pg 08

------  
  


Dr. Greeley cautiously squeezed his way through the raucous crowd, smiling as he lifted his beer a little higher, trying not to spill it on his suit as he moved away from the bar.  
Everyone was there at Taggerty's, celebrating. Night filled the windows and people filled the interior. Laughing, happy people. Talking, drinking, dancing people, as loud music from the jukebox thumped above it all.  
Some of the staff from the hospital were there, and Dr. Greeley walked over to join them. Most of Claire's singles group was there too. Mike, Nick, and Lawrence were standing together, checking out the women they hadn't seen before. Nick finally elbowed Lawrence reluctantly forward, but the woman Lawrence approached walked right past him without stopping, leaving him there with his mouth open before he could speak. All of Trevor's friends and well wishers had come to Taggerty's, happy with today's result, and grateful for the excuse to have a good time.  
The dance floor was full. Claire laughed and clapped in approval, sitting at a table as she watched Champ dip Jaclyn with an elaborate flourish, making her grip his arms tightly and yelp in delight on the dance floor. Across the room at his table, Trevor smiled at the couple too, hooting and hollering as Champ and Jaclyn continued to dance together in the enthusiastic crowd.  
Smiling, Claire looked over at Trevor and saw that an attractive woman had joined him, whispering into his ear. He was grinning as he listened, and Claire recognized the woman, an intern at the hospital. She watched their happy, animated faces as they spoke openly back and forth, but she couldn't hear what they were saying. She smiled contently to herself at the image. Trevor seemed happier than he had in a long time. But she could see it in his eyes. Something was bothering him, and she wished she knew what it was.  
For a moment Claire's view was obstructed as some people passed between her table and Trevor's, the music still blaring loudly overhead. When she caught site of them again, the woman was giving Trevor a congratulatory hug. Trevor hugged her gratefully back, smiling when she stood up and left him sitting there alone. Then he looked over, and saw that Claire was watching him.  
After a few moments, warm expressions spread across both their faces. As they looked at each other, but neither got up from their table, eyes not leaving each other. The music seemed to fall away, and in its blissful absence, it was just the two of them. People passed between them as that contented span of moments stretched on, but neither broke the gentle gaze that was passing between them. Or made any attempt to move closer together. It had been that way all night, as they had discreetly kept their distance from each other.  
Jaclyn appeared out of nowhere and collapsed into the chair next to Claire, smiling as she tried to catch her breath from all the dancing. After a few deep breaths, she paused when she realized Claire was looking at someone, and she looked over herself. Her face brightened even more as she watched Trevor and Claire drink in the sight of each other, looking back and forth between them as they continued. Even with a whole room of people between them, they couldn't get enough of each other.  
"Umm... Claire..."  
Finally realizing someone was sitting beside her, Claire came out of it and all the sound in the room seemed to come back to her ears. "Jaclyn... I'm sorry, I didn't hear you...."  
Her eyes bright, Jaclyn nodded slowly. "So I noticed..."  
  
Across the room, Champ walked up to Trevor's table. He turned a chair around and straddled it as he sat down, out of breath and staring happily at Trevor for a moment, until a knowing look came in his eye. "So how's our resident fallen god holding up? You were a regular Houdini today..."  
Trevor laughed, a beer still sitting on the table before him, long untouched. "Maybe my opponent just wasn't that bright. But I did end up pulling the wool over the eyes of the review board, didn't I?"  
"I suppose... " Champ smiled. "But I thought you really gave up on being Cupid."  
"I did..." Trevor looked down.  
"Yeah... Right..." Champ chuckled. He took a sip of the beer he had brought with him, tilting the bottle up against his lips.  
  
Jaclyn was still blithely saying nothing, smiling over at Claire as they sat at her table. Claire finally noticed what she was doing, her gaze shifting towards her out of the corner of her eye, but otherwise ignoring her. After a few moments, Claire looked at her again, not turning her face. Jaclyn's lips parted into a larger smile, her eyes glittering happily. Trying awkwardly to be subtle, she bobbed her head towards the far end of the room where Trevor was, as if to urge Claire over there, but she didn't say a word.  
Claire blinked, not really getting it. "Jaclyn, what are you doing?"  
She exhaled, her voice still sounding hopeful. "Sooo...?"  
"So what...?" Claire looked away, feeling foolish when she realized what Jaclyn was doing, and trying to hide her smile.  
Tilting her head as if it was obvious, Jaclyn looked at her playfully. "Don't make me say it..."  
"Say what?"  
"Why are you here, Claire?"  
"We're celebrating..."  
"You know that's not what I meant. Why are you here and not over there? With him."  
Claire finally did smile at that, admonishing her. "Jaclyn..."  
"You two haven't said two words to each other since the hearing. What's going on?"  
"Nothing's going on..."  
"And yet..." Jaclyn looked at her quizzically. "... you're still not moving."  
Claire paused, looking down. "It's... it's complicated."  
"Actually it's not. You stand up, point yourself in his direction and you keep stepping until--"  
"Jaclyn..."  
"Complicated how?"  
Claire thought about it. "I don't know..." she said softly.  
Jaclyn looked at her with sympathy. "Yes you do..."  
  
Champ took another sip of his beer, leaning closer to Trevor. The room was crowded and loud behind them as he spoke.  
"Can I give the former god of love some advice?"  
"Is this about those magazines I found hidden in your closet? Because I understand perfectly how sometimes--"  
"Trevor, why don't you just go over there and talk to her?"  
Trevor stared at Champ for a moment, amused. But slowly it fell away from his face, and with a sigh he finally lifted the full bottle of beer in front of him, taking a drink and not looking at Champ. "It's not that simple, man."  
"Yes it is." Champ laughed. "Wait... Me giving you romantic advice. Can you feel the irony? It is simple, Trevor. There's nothing to it. What's the problem?"  
Trevor looked over at Claire, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Maybe... we're both asking questions we were always too afraid to ask before..."  
Champ looked at him. "Then why don't you ask them together?"  
Trevor shook his head, taking another very long drink of his beer. "If the hospital review taught me anything today... it's that somebody is always watching..."  
"Yeah... And they might actually approve."  
Trevor looked serious. "And they might not. Doesn't matter, anyway. I can't do that to her, man..."  
Champ nodded, taking another sip. "Maybe it's not your call..."  
Trevor thought about that. "Maybe..."  
Shaking his head, Champ finally rose from his chair, finished with his beer. "Look Trevor, no one can make you go over there. The ex-god of love and a renowned relationship expert. And neither of you see what's right under your noses. Stop finding excuses not to be together Trevor, and just do it. Someday both of you are going to have to stop running away from each other and face this. I guess you both just have to figure out what you want." Champ looked across the room with a smile. "I know I have..."  
Champ stood up, walking away from the table and across the bar. Trevor's eyes slowly followed him across the crowded room as he went straight up to Jaclyn and pulled her out of her seat. Laughing, she slipped easily into his arms, both of them so comfortable in the other's embrace. Smiling seductively at him, Jaclyn turned and walked backwards as she held his hands, leading him onto the dance floor again.  
Trevor and Claire were suddenly on their own again, alone in the crowded bar. For a while they both watched Champ and jaclyn, wanting what they had. Trevor smiled as Claire looked back to him, as other people in the bar passed between them. After a few moments, he looked down at his hand on the table, and slowly... he slid it forward, as if wanting to be the slightest bit closer to her, even though she was across the room.  
Claire's lip curled up in amusement, watching him from her table. And then... slowly, she did the same thing, her hand sliding across the table towards Trevor too. She looked back up into his eyes.  
On his table, Trevor turned his hand upwards, palm towards the ceiling, almost as if waiting for hers.  
Claire's palm lifted slightly from where it rested against the table, fingers curling underneath.  
His fingers gently curled upward in response, as if their hands were held together, touching even though there was a room between them.  
They stayed that way fo a long time, watching each other, and wondering. But then, they both exhaled and pulled their hands back, ending their little exploration of 'what if'. They looked away from each other, turning their heads as a sadness crossed both of their faces, realizing how truly far apart they were.   
They sat that way for the rest of the night, happy but separate, two small figures at different tables, as they watched the laughing crowd dance and move all around them.  
  
It was later that night, and Claire was standing alone in her living room, the soft glow of her laptop computer display bathing her face. She sat down at her desk, thinking. Thinking about Trevor, and all that had happened. Her hands reached cautiously out to the keys and called up the last page of her book.  
It was still there, just like she had left it. But as she read the words, they still seemed wrong somehow. She still didn't like the ending. She never had. So she highlighted and deleted the last section. And then, with a small smile, she began to type a new ending to the text, the words coming fast and smoothly onto her screen.  
  
It was another cold, overcast morning in Chicago. Some of the pedestrians on the street below looked up at the pale sky, wondering if the snow that was hovering up there would ever finally come down.  
High above the noisy streets, Claire took a step forward, pausing as she breathed in the cold, crisp air. Wrapped tightly against the chill, she looked out over the city, the ornate stone railing of the skyscraper's observation deck before her. There was an arched and domed structure on the roof behind her. Claire was there because she knew Trevor liked to come here to think sometimes, and to feel closer to the heights of Olympus, she assumed. But as she looked around at the few others looking out at the city with her, all standing a discreet distance away, she didn't see him anywhere. She smiled at the city sprawled beneath her, knowing that finding Trevor hadn't really been why she had come. She needed to do some thinking herself, to figure out what she was feeling and what she should do next. It was easier to put things in perspective up here. This place just always reminded her of him.  
Reluctantly, Claire looked down at the thick, newly sealed manuscript envelope she held in her hands. She had tried to deliver it again today, the latest version of her book with last night's revisions. It was weeks overdue. But like before, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She just couldn't let the book go, no matter how hard she tried. Her eyes were indecisive as they looked out at the city again, thoughts filled with Trevor.  
  
The same white glow filled the windows of Trevor's living room as he walked across it. He was heading for the kitchen, trying to yawn himself awake, when he noticed something by his front door. Something that had not been there the night before.  
Wearily, Trevor rubbed his eyes, blinking. The box was still there. And it hadn't been before. Curious, he walked over to it.  
Trevor knelt... and slowly picked up the newly discovered box. Someone had come into his apartment last night without his knowing about it. Someone had come in and left it there.  
Trevor carried the closed box over to the kitchen table, knowing who it had to be, even before he read the note taped to its side. Someone who would still have a door key.  
Putting the box down on the table top, Trevor pulled off the note, reading it.  
  
_Thought you might want these back. Amazing what kind of stuff people are throwing away these days. Be true to yourself, Trevor.  
CHAMP_  
  
  
Putting the note down, Trevor broke the seal and pulled open the top flaps of the box.  
  
Breaking the seal on the envelope of her manuscript, Claire pulled out the neatly stacked type filled pages inside, looking down at the title page as a soft breeze blew across the observation deck. It read, THE SEARCH FOR CUPID. BY Dr. Claire Allen.  
The page fluttered slightly in the cold breeze blowing over her from the dizzying drop beyond the railing. Claire held the page down, as if it wanted to jump off the stack while she looked at it. Her unpublished book. All of it. It had taken her over two years to write. Hours and hours of work, with her editor breathing down her neck for weeks, prompting her to finish it. The publisher was already waiting to go to print. All of that worry and attention, concentrated down to what she was holding. Just a small stack of paper in her hands.  
And suddenly... Claire accepted it. Accepted why she couldn't deliver the manuscript, stopping herself over and over again. She didn't want to let go of Trevor. She didn't want him out of her life. A fantasy swirled across her vision, of giving it all up. Her book, her career, all of it, to be with him. Or of the alternative, where she finally came to her senses, published her book, and let him go.  
Both those possibilities hovered behind her features as she stood there, looking sadly out at the city. Claire closed her eyes as the breeze caressed her face, before it finally slowed, fading under the cold white sky above her.   
Opening them again, her hands shifted to pull out the newly added pages at the bottom of her book manuscript, placing them on top of the stack, needing to see them again. Standing there on that cold observation deck, the city's skyline as a backdrop behind her, she began to read, the pages shaking softly in the breeze as she held them down.  
  
_And so at long last, I had come to the end of the fairy tale. I had come to the end of my own personal search for Cupid. I had come full circle, arguing before the same review board that had assigned me to him in the first place...._  
  
Trevor reached into the box, and pulled out... his discarded string of beads. He lifted them up in wonder, looking at them with a smile, turning them before his face. Champ had taken them out of the garbage before they had been hauled away. Trevor hadn't thought that he would ever see them again. Ironic, since Champ had never really believed he was Cupid anyway. But friends were friends, no matter what they believed. And as he gratefully held those familiar beads, touched by what Champ had done, he paused... suddenly realizing something. Something deep inside. He was lying. Lying to the board, to Richard, but most of all, lying to himself. As he held the string carefully, his free hand reached up to touch the scar on his chest through his shirt, feeling the small bump where Faith had shot him. He had been through so much, doubted so much. But Champ had still saved his beads for him, despite all that.  
Amazed, Trevor thought bout it. "He doesn't believe, but he still has more faith in me than I've had in myself recently..."  
And then, Trevor laughed, realizing how foolish he had been.  
  
Claire's voice continued as if it were in the room with him.  
  
_There I was before the board, arguing not to change him, but to let him be who he is. Arguing for his right to be... Trevor._  
  
Spreading his arms out, Trevor stretched the string out above him, holding it over his head. Looking happily up at the beads hanging there, Trevor turned and carried them back to his bedroom, ready to hang them up again.  
  
Claire was still reading on the observation deck, lost in her words. Behind her people walked past, looking at her out of curiosity for a moment, but she didn't notice. The pages fluttered in the breeze as she read, but finally the air seemed to go completely still as if in anticipation. Claire listened to the words in her mind.  
  
_ But maybe the fairy tale never ends. The possibility of Trevor being committed for what he's done, for what he believes, is still very real. Still hanging there, over his head. Damocles doesn't have a monopoly on swords. Whoever his next therapist is, they might not be as forgiving. They might not be as willing to accept Trevor the way he is. They may not even want to believe in fairy tales anymore..._  
  
In his bedroom, Trevor was hammering the second end of the string into the wall, finally leaving it hanging in mid air above him. Trevor stepped down to the floor, turning around to look up at it, smiling.  
"Nosce ti epsum..." he whispered.  
  
Claire's voice continued.  
  
_Trevor needs someone who... who cares about him. Someone who will handle his treatment without hurting him in the process. Someone who can protect him from those who don't understand and can't believe. Someone who... would love him, no matter what he is. And who would be willing to sacrifice as much to keep him that way. Whatever the personal costs..._  
  
Trevor sat down on his recliner, the beads still hanging above him. With a deeply contented sight, he finally picked up the singles adds again, lifting the phone at his side. And for the first time in a long time, it felt right. He dialed a number from the page. Then the call picked up, and his lips began moving as he started the first of several interlinking messages to the answering machines of the people in the ads.  
  
Claire looked out over the city, no longer reading, but knowing the words by heart.  
  
_Funny thing is, in the process of writing this book, I realized something. All this time, it wasn't really Cupid I was looking for. It was myself. I was looking for the small part of Cupid inside all of us. That small part... that still believes in true love and fairy tales, in someone for everyone, and happily ever after. I was looking for something to believe, something to cherish, and something to protect.  
Trevor needs protection from a jaded and uncaring world. I wish the truth wasn't like that, but it is. And deep down, as much as I wish things were different between us, I still know what I have to do. And what I have to give up..._  
  
Claire sounded surprised as she said it, not expecting the words. "I can't be with him if I want to protect him..."  
Thinking, her eyes starting to moisten as she looked out over the city. And it dawned on her. She knew exactly what she needed to do. What she needed to give up, and what she needed to let go. It all seemed so clear, for the first time.  
"I love you, Trevor..." Her voice was a soft whisper in the still air of the observation deck as she held her book manuscript in her hands.  
And then without warning, she instantly flung the thick stack of papers she held out into the air before her without hesitation, smiling wide as she cast them past the stone railing. The sheets of her book scattered apart with a wide flourish, and Claire gleefully watched them twist and fall downward into the chasm beneath her, spreading out upon the air like a cloud.  
She felt felt something land lightly on the tip of her nose. Surprised, she looking up. Turning her face towards the sky, Claire laughed as icy flakes came tumbling down after the falling sheets of paper, and it finally began to snow.  
  
The pages seemed to tumble slowly down in the silence, a twisting, fluttering cloud of pristine paper sheets dropping out of the sky as snowflakes came falling behind. Harried pedestrians on the sidewalk below looked up, wondering what was going on as the tumbling sheets descended all around them like confetti, coming to a rest all over the street. Large, slow falling snowflakes began to thickly fill the air as far as the eye could see. In that gentle moment as the snow fell, the sounds of the street faded away, and music began to play. It was quiet and beautiful, as a woman with a voice like honey... sadly began to sing.  
  
_The leaves must turn...  
the wind must blow..._  
  
One of the business men walking by saw the last of the manuscript pages flutter down to the sidewalk before him. The calm air was filled with gently falling snow, icy flakes landing on his shoulders. Curious, the man bent down and picked up the sheet of paper at his feet, reading it. THE SEARCH FOR CUPID. By Dr. Claire Allen.  
Blinking, the man looked at all the other sheets of paper laying haphazardly all over the street, kicked up in the wake of cars driving through them and scattering even more. Confused, he looked up at the buildings towering above him in the hazy deluge, wondering where the pages had come from.  
  
_The heart must learn...  
when it's time for the heart to let go..._  
  
Trevor was sitting on his bedroom recliner, thinking as he gazed out of his window at the falling snow. He looked sad, thinking about Claire, and what should happen next between them, now that he had hung up his string of beads again, hovering there over him. His mind kept coming back to the uncomfortable questions Claire had been put through during the review hearing... because of him. Because she had to hide her feelings. Because they loved each other.  
With no clear answers, Trevor slowly got up and slipped on his coat, realizing that he needed to take a walk to clear his head.  
  
_But when I think of you, my heart knows why...  
I don't know how to say goodbye..._  
  
The snow was still falling as Trevor walked down the sidewalk, the gentle deluge coming down even heavier now. Pausing, he stopped in place for a moment, looking over through the window of the bookstore he was walking beside. Slowly he stepped closer, his bare hands wrapping around the ornate iron security gate across the glass of the locked front door.  
Several copies of Claire's first book, LOVE: A USER'S MANUAL were on display just inside the bookstore. Trevor looked up. Above the display a promotional poster with her picture on it was hanging in mid air. There was text beneath it. _Chicago's own best-selling author, Dr. Claire Allen. Read her first hit book, before the follow up hits the shelves. Second book, coming soon..._  
Trevor smiled as he looked up at her image above him, realizing how successful a career she had in front of her.  
But the smile slowly faded, realizing what would happen to her if the two of them were ever together. He wanted to be with her more than anything. But what would the world think of Claire falling in love with one of her delusional outpatients? Suddenly the iron bars Trevor was holding felt cold against his palms, and his eyes shifted to them. Vertical bars, between him and Claire. Like he was in a cell.  
Jaw hardening at the thought, Trevor lowered his head.  
"It'll happen sooner or later... But I can't change who I am." Trevor whispered to himself, before looking back up at Claire's picture. "And I'm not waiting anymore..."  
Trevor let the bars go and turned away, leaving them behind as he slowly walked away through the falling snow, finally knowing what to do.  
As he moved away, a few sheets of Claire's discarded book manuscript fluttered down the middle of the street, dancing between the dropping snowflakes.  
  
_The world moves on...  
with no regret..._  
  
It was the same room at the hospital, and the same review board. It's members were all sitting in attendance at their bench. But this time Claire was alone as she sat at the desk before them. The room behind her was empty. Morning filled the windows to her right as she faced the review board, snow still falling gently outside. A man seated on the board leaned forward, a pleased expression on his face.  
"That's wonderful news. Are you certain about this decision, Dr. Allen?"  
Claire nodded, confident in her answer.  
"Absolutely."  
  
Trevor's hands came into view in his bedroom, putting things away. As he continued to work, the room was empty behind him, and the corner where his string of beads had been hanging, was empty.  
  
"Then this review board is in agreement, and pleased to unanimously welcome you back to your previous position on our hospital staff, Dr. Allen. And per your request, we gladly reassign you to Trevor Hale for further treatment and prognosis. Unless circumstances change, of course..."  
Claire exhaled in relief. "Thank you..."  
With a smile she rose from her chair, hoping that now Trevor was finally safe. A deep, happy feeling coursed through her, and she turned and left, knowing she had to tell him what had happened.  
  
_And though you're gone...  
there are feelings I'll never forget...._  
  
The front door swung closed with a thump. Inside the apartment, everything was quiet. The living room floor was clean and bare, except for a few boxes. Nothing was in sight on the tables or the shelves. Everything else was missing.  
In Trevor's bedroom, his closet door was open, but the interior was empty.  
  
Claire smiled as Jaclyn gave her an enthusiastic hug, both of them standing in the hallway outside Dr. Hazerman's office.  
"That's so great, Claire! So Trevor won't be committed?"  
Laughing, Claire pulled back. "Not as long as I can help it. And I was wondering, Jaclyn. Would you like your old job back?"  
"Yes, yes, yes..." Pausing, Jaclyn looked cautiously back at Dr. Hazerman, who was watching them from his doorway. "If it... would be okay?"  
Dr. Hazerman mumbled happily, a smile on his face. Both women exhaled when they heard, neither needing a translation to know what he meant that time.  
Claire looked pleased. "That's great, Jaclyn. I'll be moving back into my old office tomorrow. I still have to chase down some of my old case files..."  
Jaclyn nodded. "I'll come by to help."  
"Thanks, Jaclyn. Umm, by the way... do you know where Trevor is?"  
  
_So I remember you, and though I try...  
I don't know how to say goodbye..._  
  
"Trevor?"  
Keys rattled in the lock of the front door as Champ opened Trevor's apartment. Swinging the door open he stepped in, a pretty blond following behind him. She was tanned and athletic, petite and curvy with an attractive, likeable face. As they both moved into the living room, the cute ash blond young woman looked around, smiling appreciatively.  
"Hey... really nice place. I absolutely adore high ceilings." She tilted her head up to take it all in, before she started searching through the room. "Is he here?"  
"I don't know..." Champ looked around, a little confused as he called out. "Trevor, I brought Allison to meet you. Remember? She wanted to see if she could be your new roommate. Trevor...?"  
Allison stepped off by herself, blinking as she took in the emptiness of the room. "Doesn't he usually have more stuff here than this?"  
"Yeah..." Champ was suddenly concerned. "He usually does... Trevor!"  
With a worried expression, he walked into Trevor's bedroom.  
  
"He did what?" Claire was incredulous as she stood in Taggerty's.  
The man behind the bar shrugged. "He quit today. Damn shame. We're gonna miss him around here..."  
"But why would Trevor-" Claire stopped, thinking for a moment. Then fear suddenly blossomed on her eyes as she thought of something.  
"He's trying to protect me..."  
She looked nervously around the bar for a second, before she turned and quickly ran out the front door, heading for Trevor's apartment. The man she had been talking to turned away, moving to the far side of the bar as Claire ran past the front windows, snow falling ambivalently outside.  
  
_The house we used to share...  
still looks as if you're there..._  
  
Claire heard two people talking through Trevor's open front door. Rushing forward, she darted into the apartment, stopping when she saw Champ and some woman she had never met before sitting on some large boxes in Trevor's empty living room.  
Worried, Claire stepped towards them. "Where's Trevor?"  
Champ stood when he saw her, a sadness on his face.  
"Claire, I..."  
"Where is he? Champ, what's wrong?"  
"He's gone..."  
"What?"  
Champ's voice was soft. "Trevor left. He's gone. Gave away all his stuff to the neighbors. The rest he left for me..."  
Claire's face went blank, stunned, stepping slowly back as she looked at Champ. Speechless, an icy feeling opened like a pit in the middle of her chest. The world seemed to freeze into that incomprehensible moment, and her heart dropped away inside her.  
"No... no, he couldn't have.."  
"I'm sorry Claire." Champ extended his hand. "He left this for you..."  
In a daze, Claire looked down at the small piece of paper in Champ's hand. Slowly she took it from him, lifting it closer, her fingers shaking a little as she read it.  
  
_Goodbye, Claire. This is the way it has to be. Richard was right about one thing. I can't let myself be the one to hurt you or ruin your life. I love you too much to do that. I really do love you so much Claire. I can't go around pretending that I don't anymore. Or that I'm not Cupid. I have to be true to myself... on both counts._  
  
Claire's lip quivered as she closed her eyes, exhaling a fragile breath out. Her brown eyes were glittering with moisture when she finally opened them again, and continued to read Trevor's letter.  
  
_It all comes down to what you think is worth believing in, Claire. You don't believe in me, but I believe in you. I know that I'm Cupid. I can't change that. Maybe the gods have abandoned me down here. I don't know. Maybe that's why they didn't help me when I was shot. But I won't abandon myself. If they sent me here to die, I choose to live. On my terms.  
I'm Cupid, Claire. And I love you and always will. Until I met you, I never really understood what that meant. But now I do. And I don't know if I'm running away from how I feel out of fear, or if I'm just trying to protect you. But either way, you deserve better than the life I would give you if we were together. It doesn't matter if I'm delusional or not anymore. Because your love makes me real. Even if I make it back to Olympus, my home will be where you are, Claire. Because that's where my heart is. Where my heart will always be.   
The review board was a close call. For both of us. I won't just sit around waiting to be committed someday. And I can't let myself hurt you anymore. Sometimes it's better just to move on. You and me. That was a great fantasy for a while. An echo of an image of a dream. But it's time to wake up. I'll miss you Claire. Everyday of my life.  
Love forever,  
Cupid_  
  
A tear fell slowly down Claire's cheek when she realized Trevor was really gone. For good. Her voice was a fragile whisper. "He left me..."  
Standing there for a moment, she finally turned away from Champ and Allison, crying softly to herself. In the bright, overcast sky outside, snow gently fell in the window as she looked out at the cold city. She reached up as more tears fell off her chin and onto her neck, the warm drops falling on a small heart shaped diamond necklace. It was supposedly from Alex, but she had always known deep down that it was really from Trevor, given on Alex's behalf. Her fingers tenderly lifted the diamond heart off her moist skin, sparkling like snow in sunlight, holding it and thinking of Trevor.  
  
_And I won't change a single thing...  
not even the wedding ring I wear..._  
  
With a squeal the door to the greyhound bus slammed open as the driver looked down the steps to the line of people waiting to get on, their breaths misting in the cold air. As they all started to board, snow fell out of the sky all around them.  
When everyone else had moved onto the bus, the shoe of one man at the back of the line crunched to a stop on the snow covered sidewalk, not getting on.  
The driver looked down impatiently, calling out. "Hey buddy. You gettin' on or what?"  
"Yeah... Umm... Give me a minute..."  
Trevor turned in place, sadly taking one last look at the city of Chicago behind him. Taking in a deep breath of the cold air, he tilted his head back and closed his eyes, letting the snow land softly against his upturned face.  
Trevor looked smaller from above, as the snow fell spinning down towards him, gentle in that quiet moment as the world seemed to rotate slowly around him.  
  
_The evening falls, much harder now..._  
  
"Hey buddy..."  
Opening his eyes, Trevor nodded, not turning around. "Hold on..." he answered.  
With one last look, Trevor whispered softly. "Goodbye, Claire..."  
Finally Trevor turned and stepped up into the interior, the bus door slamming shut behind him. The engine revved loudly as thick, snow encrusted tires began to turn. The bus slowly pulling away from the curb, moving out into the street.  
  
_The stars grow small...  
and the moon seems so different somehow..._  
  
The aisle rattled beneath him as Trevor made his way towards the back. The bright moving glare from the windows slid backwards over the passengers to either side of him on the crowded bus.  
Putting his things away into a bin overhead, Trevor finally took one of the back seats, his string of beads draped over one shoulder of his coat. He squeezed by the older woman sitting along the aisle. Once he was settled, he turned towards the woman with a smile, extending his hand.  
"Hi there. Trevor Hale. God of Love..."  
The woman gave Trevor a strange look, before clutching her purse tighter to her body, scooting further away from him in her chair. Trevor didn't seem to mind, smiling as he reached over to clip his string of beads to the wire of the emergency brake above the window, hanging them up. He shoved all the beads to one side, a fresh start.  
Reaching down into the clothes bag on his lap, Trevor searching through it. He pulled out a severely bent paper, unfolding it several times, until it was rather large and spread out. The corners were affixed with masking tape. Trevor plastered the homemade poster up against the interior of the bus window, the text on the sheet facing outward. He finally got the sheet to stay up, by accidentally jostling the woman next to him.  
"Sorry..." Trevor apologized.  
Finished, Trevor leaned back in his chair, looking out of the window at the city moving past for a few moments, his eyes growing sad. Slowly he reached out, his fingers gently touching the cold glass. Leaning closer, he breathed on it, moisture condensing against the cold. Gently, with one finger, he traced the shape of a heart punctured by an arrow into the moisture.  
  
_But every time I think of you, the moon and I...  
know you're the only reason why...._  
  
In Trevor's apartment, Claire was till crying, now completely alone after Champ and Allison had left. She stepped closer to the window. Tears were silently streaming down her cheeks as she looked out at the cold sky. Still weeping, her shoulders shook as her hand reached out and touched the cold glass like Trevor was doing, snow continuing to fall beyond it. Then out of nowhere, her fingers began.... to absently trace the shape of a heart and arrow, not knowing why she was doing it, thinking of Trevor.  
  
Blinking as if he felt something, Trevor pulled his hand back from the glass in surprise, snow still streaming past the bus. He looked at his tingling fingers, amazed. But then he took a deep breath, letting it all go. Turning eagerly towards the older woman sitting next to him, he smiled.  
"So tell me. Your ideal guy, Describe what you like and I'll see what I can do..."  
  
_I don't know how to say... goodbye..._  
  
Outside the moving bus, the sign that Trevor had pasted up could be seen clearly as the bus moved out of Chicago. It read 'OLYMPUS OR BUST'. The bus continued down the highway, moving out of sight in the gently falling snow, getting smaller and smaller, finally leaving the city far behind as the music came to an end, and everything faded to black.  
  


THE END  
  
  
Author's note: This was where I originally intended to end the story...  
but then I realized I couldn't do it.  
  
So this story will continue in part 6 of 5 (I know, don't ask...)  
  
FINDING TREVOR  
  



End file.
